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YEAR'S RESIDENCE, 



IN THE 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



Treating of the Face of the Country, the Climate, the Soil, 
the Products, the Mode of Cultivating the Land, the Prices 
of Land, of Labour, of Food, of Raiment ; of the Expenses 
of Housekeeping, and of the usual Manner of Living; of 
the Manners and Customs of the People ; and of the 
Institutions of the Country, Civil, Political, and Religious. 

IN THREE PARTS. 



By WILLIAM COBBETT. 



g'econtr Ctritton* 



PART 1. 

Containing,— I. A Description of the Face of the Country, 
the Climate, the Seasons, and the Soil, the facts being taken 
from the Author's daily notes during a whole year.— IL An 
Account of the Author's agricultural experiments in the 
Cultivation of the Uuta Baga, or Russia, or Swedish Turnip, 
which afford proof of what the climate and soil are. 




LONDON: N 

PRINTED FOR SHERWOOD, NEELY, AND JONES, 
PATEKNOSTER-ROW. 

1819. 



[CntereU at g^tattoners' ^alL] 



John M'Creery, Printer, 
Black-IIorbe-Coui't, Londoit. 



\ ' 



CONTENTS OF PART I. 



Page 
General Preface to the Three Parts i 

Chap. i. Description of the Situation and Extent of 
Long Island, and also of the Face of 
the Country, and an Account of the 
Climate, Seasons, and Soil .... 9 

Chap. II. Ruta Baga. Culture, Mode of preserv- 
ing, and Uses of the Ruta Baga, some- 
times called the Russia, and sometimes 
the Swedish, Turnip 98 



GENERAL PREFACE 



TO THB 



THREE PARTS. 



1. Throughout the whole of this work it is. 
my intention to number the paragraphs, from one 
end to the other of each Part. This renders the 
business of reference more easy than it can be 
rendered by any mode in my power to find out -, 
and, easy reference saves a great deal of paper 
and print, and also, which ought to be more 
valuable, a great deal of timey of which an in- 
dustrious man has never any to spare. To de- 
sire the reader to look at paragraph such a num- 
ber of such a part, will frequently, as he will 
find, save him both money and labour; for, 
without this power of reference, the paragraph, 
or the substance of it, would demand being re- 
peated in the place where the reference would 
be pointed out to him. 

B 



ii GENERAL PREFACE. 

2. Amongst all the publications, which I 
have yet seen, on the subject of the United 
States, as a country to live in, and especially 
to farm in, I have never yet observed one that 
conveyed to Englishmen any thing like a cor- 
rect notion of the matter. Some writers of 
Ti'avels in these States have jolted along in the 
stages from place to place, have lounged away 
their time with the idle part of their own 
countrymen, and, taking every thing different 
from what they left at home for the effect of 
ignorance, and every thing not servile to be the 
effect of insolence, have described tbe country 
as unfit for a civilized being to reside in. Others, 
coming with a resolution to find everi^ thing 
better than at home, and weakly deeming them- 
selves pledged to find climate, soil, and all 
blessed by the effects of freedom, have painted 
the country as a perfect paradise; they have 
seen nothing but blooming orchards and smil- 
ing faces. 

3. The account, which I shall give, shall be 
that of actual experience. I will say what I 
know and what I have seen and what I have 
done. I mean to give an account of a YEAR'S 



GENERAL PREFACE. iii 

Residence, ten months in this Island and two 
months in Pennsylvania, in which I went back 
to the first ridge of mountains. In the course 
of the three parts, of which this work will 
consist, each part making a small volume, every 
thing which appears to me useful to persons 
intending to come to this country shall be com- 
municated; but, more especially 'that which 
may be useful to farmers j because, as to such 
matters, I have ample experience. Indeed, this 
is the main tlwig ; for this is really and truly 
a country of farmers. Here, Governors, Legis- 
lators, Presidents, all are farmers. A farmer 
here is not the poor dependent wretch that a 
Yeomanry- Cavalry man is, or that a Treason- 
Jury man is. A farmer here depends on nobody 
but himself ?t.\\di on his own proper means; and, 
if he be not at his ease, and even rich, it must 
be his own fault. 

4. To make men clearly see what they may 
do in any situation of life, one of the best modes, 
if not the very best, is to give them, in detail, 
an account of what one has done oneself in that 
same situation, and how and when and where 
one has done it. This, as far as relates to 

B 2 



IV GENERAL PREFACE. 

farming and house-keeping in the country, is 
the i)K)de that I shall pursue. I shall give an 
account of what I have done 5 and, while this 
will convince any good farmer, or any man of 
tolerable means, that he may, if he will, do the 
same, it will give him an idea of the climate, 
soil, crops, &c. a thousand times more neat and 
correct,, than could be conveyed to his mind by 
anj' general description, unaccompanied with 
actual experimental accounts. 

5. As the expressing of this intention may, 
perhaps, suggest to the reader to ask, how it is 
that much can be known on the subject of 
Farming by a man, who, for thirty-six out of 

fjly-lwo years of his life has been a Soldier or 
a Political Writer, and who, of course, has 
spent so large a part of his time in garrisons 
and in great cities, I will beg leave to satisfy 
tliis natural curiosity before-hand. 

6. Early habits and affections seldom quit 
us while we have vigour of mind left. I was 
brought up under a father, whose talk was 
chiefly about his garden and his iields, with 
regard to wiiich he was famed for his skill and 
his exemplary neatness. From my very infancy. 



GENERAL PREFACE. V 

from the age of six years, when I climhed up 
the side of a steep sand-rock, and there scooped 
me out a plot four feet square to make me a 
garden, and the soil for which I carried up in 
the bosom of my little blue smock-frock (or 
hunting-shirt), I have never lost one particle of 
my passion for these healthy and rational and 
heart-cheering pursuits, in which everyday pre- 
sents something new, in which the spirits are 
never suffered to flag, and in which industry, 
skill, and care are sure to meet with their due 
reward. I have never, for any eight months 
together, during my whole life, been without a 
garden. So sure are we to overcome difficulties 
where the heart and mind are bent on the thing 
to be obtained I 

7. The beautiful plantation of American 
Trees round my house at Botley, the seeds of 
which were sent me, at my request, from Penn 
sylvania, in I8O6, and some of which are now 
nearly forty feet high, all sown and planted by 
myself, will, I hope, long remain as a specimen 
of my perseverance in this way. During my 
whole life I have been a gardener. There is no 
part of the business, which, first or last, I have 



VI GENERAL PREFACE. 

not performed with my own hands. And, as 
to it, I owe very little to books, except that of 
TULL3 for I never read a good one in my life, 
except a French book, called the Manuel dii 
Jardinier. 

8. As to farmings I was bred at the plough- 
tail, and in the Hop-Gardens of Farnham in 
Surrey, my native place, and which spot, as it 
so happened, is the neatest in England, and, I 
believe, in the whole world. All there is a 
garden. The neat culture of the hop extends 
its influence to the fields round about. Hedges 
cut with shears and every other mark of skill 
and care strike the eye at Farnham, and be- 
come fainter and fainter as you go from it in 
every direction. I have had, besides, great ex- 
perience in farming for several years of late; 
for, one man will gain more knowledge in a 
year than another will in a life. It is the tasfe 
for the thing that really gives the knowledge. 

9. To this taste, produced in me by a desire 
to imitate a father whom I ardently loved, and 
to whose very word I listened with admiration, 
I owe no small part of my happiness, for a 
greater proportion of which very iew men ever 



GENERAL PREFACE. Vll 

had to be grateful to God. These pursuits, in- 
nocent in themselves, instructive in their very 
nature, and always tending to preserve health, 
have a constant, a never-failing source, of recre- 
ation to me J and, which I count amongst the 
greatest of their benefits and blessings, they have 
always, in my house, supplied the place of the 
card-table, the dice-box, the chess-board and 
the lounging bottle. Time never hangs on the 
hands of him, who delights in these pursuits, 
and who has books on the subject to read. 
Even when shut up within the walls of a prison, 
for having complained that Englishmei\ had 
been flogged in the heart of England under a 
guard of German Bayonets and Sabres ; even 
then, I found in these pursuits a source of plea- 
sure inexhaustible. To that of the whole of 
our English books on these matters, I then added 
the reading of all the valuable French books ; 
and I then, for the first time, read that Book of 
all Books on husbandry, the work of Jethro 
TuLL, to the principles of whom I owe more than 
to all my other reading and all my experience, 
and of which principles I hope to find time to 
give a sketch, at least, in some future Part of 
this work. 



VI 11 GENERAL PREFACE. 

10. I wish it to be observed, that, in any 
thing which I may say, during the course of 
this work, though truth will compel me to state 
facts, which will, doubtless, tend to induce 
farmers to leave England for America, I advise 
no one so to do. I shall set down in writing no- 
thing but what is strictly true. I myself am 
bound to England for life. My notions of alle- 
giance to country J my great and anxious desire 
to assist in the restoration of her freedom and 
happiness; my opinion that I possess, in some 
small degree, at any rate, the power to render 
such assistance ; and, above all the other consi- 
derations, my unchangeable attachment to the 
people of England, and especially those who 
have so bravely struggled for our rights ; these 
bind me to England ; but, I shall leave others to 
judge and to act for themselves. 



Wm. cobbett. 



North Hempsted, Long Island, 
2\st April, 181S. 



YEAR'S RESIDENCE, 



CHAP. I. 



Description of the Situation and Extent of Long 
Island, and also of the Face of the Country, 
and an Account of the Climate, Seasons, and 
Soil. 

11. Long Island is situated in what may be 
called the middle climate of that part of the 
United States, which, coastwise, extends from 
Boston to the Bay of Chesapeake. Farther to the 
South, the cultivation is chiefly by negroes, and 
farther to the North than Boston is too cold 
and arid to be worth much notice, though, 
doubtless, there are to be found in those parts 
good spots of land and good farmers. Boston 
is about 200 miles to the North of me, and 
the Bay of Chesapeake about the same distance 
to the South. In speaking of the climate and 
seasons, therefore, an allowance must be made, 
of hotter or colder, earlier or later, in a degree 
proportioned to those distances; because I can 
speak positively only of the very spot, at which 
I have resided. But this is a matter of very 



lO CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. [PART I. 

little consequence; seeing that every part has 
its seasons first or last. All the difference is, 
that, in some parts of the immense space of 
which I have spoken, there is a little more sum- 
mer than in other parts. The same crops will, 
I believe, grow in them all. 

12. The situation of Long Island is this : It 
is about 130 miles long, and, on an average, 
about 8 miles broad. It extends in length from 
the Ray of the City of New York to within a 
short distance of the State of Rhode Island. 
One side of it is against the sea, the other side 
looks across an arm of the sea into a part of 
the State of New York (to which Long Island 
belongs) and into a part of the State of Con- 
necticut. At the end nearest the city of New 
York it is separated from the scite of that city, 
by a channel so narrow as to be crossed by a 
Steam-Boat in a few minutes j and this boat, 
with another near it, impelled by a team of horses, 
which works in the boat, form the mode of con- 
veyance from the Island to the city, for horses, 
waggons, and every thing else. 

IS. The Island is divided into three counties ; 
King's county, Queen's county, and the county 
of Suffolk. King's county takes off the end 
next New York city, for about 13 miles up the 
Island ; Queen's county cuts off another slice 
about thirty miles further up; and all the rest 
is the county of Suffolk. These counties are 



CHAP. I.] CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. 11 

divided into townships. And, the municipal 
government of Justices of the Peace, Sheriffs, 
Constables, &c. is in nearly the English way, 
with such differences as I shall notice in the 
second part of this work. 

14. There is a ridge of hills, which runs from 
one end of the Island to the other. The two 
sides are flats, or, rather, very easy and imper- 
ceptible slopes towards the sea. There are no 
rivers, or rivulets except here and there a little 
run into a bottom which lets in the sea-water 
for a mile or two as it were to meet the springs. 
Dryness is, therefore, a great characteristic of 
this Island. At the place where I live, which 
is in Queen's county, and very nearly the 
middle of the Island, crosswise, we have no 
water, except in a well seventy feet deep, and 
from the clouds; yet, we never experience a 
want of water, A large rain-water cistern to 
take the run from the house, and a duck-pond 
to take that from the barn, afford an ample 
supply ; and 1 can truly say, that as to the arti- 
cle of water, I never was situated to please me 
so well in my life before. The rains come about 
once in fifteen days; they come in abundance 
for about twenty-four hours : and then all is fair 
and all is dry again immediately : yet here and 
there, especially on the hills, there are po?ids, as 
they call them here ; but in England, they 
would be called lakes, from their extent as well 



12 CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. [PART I. 

as from their depth. These, with the various 
trees which surround them, are very beautiful 
indeed. 

15. The farms are so many plots originally 
scooped out of woods ; though in King's and 
Queen's counties the land is generally pretty 
much deprived of the woods, which, as in every 
other part of America that I have seen, are 
beautiful beyond all description. The Walnut 
of two or three sorts, the Plane, the Hickory, 
Chesnut, Tulip Tree, Cedar, Sassafras, Wild 
Cherry (sometimes 60 feet high) ; more than 
fifty sorts of Oaks; and many other trees, but 
especially the Flowering Locugt, or Acacia, 
which, in my opinion, surpasses all other trees, 
and some of which, in this Island, are of a very 
great height and girt. The Orchards constitute 
a feature of great beauty. Every farm has its 
orchard, and, in general, of cherries as well as 
of apples and pears. Of the cultivation and 
crops of these, I shall speak in another Part of 
the work. 

16. There is one great draw-back to all these 
beauties, namely, the fences; and, indeed, 
there is another with us South-of-England 
people ; namely, the general (for there are many 
exceptions) slovenliness about the homesteads, 
and particularly about the dwellings of labourers. 
Mr. BlRKBECK complains of this; and, indeed, 
what a contrast with the homesteads and cot- 



CHAP. I.] CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. \^ 

tages, which he left behind him near that ex- 
emplary spot, Guildford in Surrey ! Both blots 
are, however, easily accounted for. 

17. The fences are oi post and rail. This 
arose, in the first place, from the abundance of 
timber that men knew not how to dispose of. 
It is now become an afTair of great expense, in 
the populous parts of the country ; and, that it 
might, with great advantage and perfect ease, be 
got rid of, I shall clearly show in another part 
of my work. 

18. The dwellings and gardens y and little out- 
houses of labourers, which form so striking a 
feature of beauty in England, and especially in 
Kent, Sussex, Surrey, and Hampshire, and 
which constitute a sort of fairy-land, when com- 
pared with those of the labourers in France, 
are what I, for my part, most feel the want of 
seeing upon Long Island. Instead of the neat 
and warm little cottage, the yard, cow-stable, 
pig-sty, hen-house, all in miniature, and the 
garden, nicely laid out and the paths bordered 
with flowers, while the cottage door is crowned 
with a garland of roses or honey-suckle j in- 
stead of these, we here see the labourer content 
with a shell of boards, while all around him is 
as barren as the sea-beach ; though the natural 
earth would send melons, the finest in the world, 
creeping round his door, and though there is 
no English shrub, or flower, which will not 



14 CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. [PART I. 

grow and flourish here. This want of attention 
in such cases is hereditary from the first settlers. 
They found land so plenty, that they treated 
small spots with contempt. Besides, the example 
of neatness was wanting. There were no gen- 
tlemen's gardens, kept as clean as drawing- 
rooms, with grass as even as a carpet. From 
endeavouring to imitate perfection men arrive at 
mediocrity ; and, those who never have seen, or 
heard of perfection, in these matters, will natu- 
rally be slovens. 

19. Yet, notwithstanding these blots^ as I 
deem them, the face of the country, in summer, 
is very fine. From December to May, there is 
not a speck of green. No green-grass and tur- 
nips, and wheat, and rye, and rape, as in Eng- 
land. The frost comes and sweeps all vegeta- 
tion and verdant existence from the face of the 
earth. The wheat and rye live ; but, they lose 
all their verdure. Yet the state of things in 
June^ is, as to crops, and fruits, much about 
what it is in England; for, when things do 
begin to grow, they grow indeed ; and the ge- 
neral harvest for grain (what we call corn) is 
a full month earlier than in the South of Eng- 
land ! 

20. Having now given a sketch of the face of 
the country, it only remains for me to speak in 
this place of the Climate and Seasons, because 
I shall sufficiently describe the Soil, when I 



CHAP. I.] CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. 15 

come to treat of my own actual experience of 
it. I do not like, in these cases, general descrip- 
tions. Indeed, they must be very imperfect j 
and, therefore, I will just give a copy of a jour- 
nal, kept by myself, from the 5th of May, 1817, 
to the 20th of April, 1818. This, it appears to 
me, is the best way of proceeding; for, then, 
there can be no deception -, and, therefore, I in- 
sert it as follows. 
1817. 

May 5. Landed at New York. 

6. Went over to Long Island. Very 
line day, warm as May in England. 
The Peach-trees going out of bloom. 
Plum trees in full bloom. 

7. Cold, sharp. East wind, just like 

that which makes the old de- 
bauchees in London shiver and 
shake. 

8. A little frost in the night, and a 

warm day. 

9. Cold in the shade and hot in the 
sun. 

10. The weather has been dry for some 
time. The grass is only beginning 
to grow a little. 

11. Heavy thunder and rain in the night, 
and all this day. 

12. Rain till noon. Then warm and 
beautiful. 



16 CLIMATE, SEASONS, &c. [PART I. 

1817. 
May 13. Warm, fine day. Saw, in the garden, 

lettuces, onion?, carrots, and pars- 
nips, just come up out of the ground. 

14. Sharp, drying wind. People travel 
with great coats, to be guarded 
against the morning and evening air. 

15. Warm and fair. The farmers are be- 
ginning to plant their Indian Corn. 

16. Dry wind, warm in the sun. Cherry 
trees begin to come out in bloom. 
The Oaks sRow no green yet. The 
Sassafras in flower, or, whatever else 
it is called. It resembles the Elder 
flower a good deal. 

17. Dry wind. Warmer than yesterday. 
An English April morning, that is 
to say, a sharp April morning, and 
a June day. 

18. Warm and fine. Grass pushes on. 
Saw some Lucerne in a warm spot, 
8 inches high. 

19. Rain all day. Grass grows apace. 
People plant potatoes. 

20. Fine and warm. A good cow sells, 

with a calf by her side, for 45 dol- 
lars. A steer, two years old, 20 dol- 
lars. A working ox, five years old, 
40 dollars. 

21. Fine and warm day j but the morn- 



CHAP. I.] CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. 1? 

1817. 
May 21. ing and evening coldish. The 
cherry-trees in full bloom, and the 
pear-trees nearly the same. Oats, 
sown in April, up, and look ex- 
tremely fine. 

22. Fine and warm. — Apple-trees fast 
coming into bloom. Oak buds 
breaking. 

23. Fine and warm. — Things grow 
away. Saw kidney-beans up and 
looking pretty well. Saw some 
beets coming up. Not a sprig of 
parsley to be had for love or money. 
What improvidence! Saw some cab- 
bage plants up and in the fourth 
leaf. 

24. Rain at night and all day to day. 
Apple-trees in full bloom, and cherry- 
bloom falling off. 

25. Fine and warm. 

26. Dry coldish wind, but hot sun. 
The grass has pushed on most 
furiously. 

27. Dry wind. Spaded up a corner of 
ground and sowed (in the natural 
earth) cucumhei^s and melons. Just 
the time, they tell me. 

28. Warm and fair. 

29. Cold wind ; but, the sun warm. 

C 



18 CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. [PART I. 

1817. 

May 29. No fires in parlours now, except 
now-and-then in the mornings, and 
evenings. 

30. Fine and warm.' — Apples have drop- 
ped their blossoms. And now the 
grass, the wheat, the rye, and every 
thing, which has stood the year, or 
winter through, aj)pear to have over- 
taken their hke in Old England. 

31. Coldish morning and evening. 
June 1. Fine warm day; but, saw a man, in 

the evening, covering something in 
a garden. It was kidney -beans, and 
he feared ?i frost ! To be sure, they 
are very tender things. I have had 
them nearly killed in England, by 
June frosts. 

2. Rain and warm, — The oaks and all 
the trees, except the Flowering Lo- 
custs begin to look greenish. 

.*?. Fine and warm. — The Indian Corn 
is generally come up ; but looks 
yellow in consequence of the cold 
nights and litile frosts. — N. B. I 
ought here to describe to my English 
readers what this same Indian Corn 

is. The Americans call it Corn^ 

by way of eminence, and wheat, rye, 
barley and oats, which we confound 



CHAP. I.] CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. 19 

1817. 

June 3. under the name of com, they con- 
found under the name of grai?i. 
The Indian Corn in its ripe seed 
state, consists of an ear, which is in 
the shape of a spruce-Jir apple. The 
grains, each of which is about the 
bulk of the largest marrow-fat pea, 
are placed all round the stalk, which 
goes up the middle, and this little 
stalk, to which the seeds adhere, is 
called the Corn Cob. Some of these 
ears (of which from 1 to 4 grow 
upon a plant) are more than a foot 
long; and I have seen many, each 
of which weighed more than eighteen 
ounces, avoirdupois weight. They 
are long or short, heavy or light, ac- 
cording to the land and the culture. 
I was at a Tavern, in the village of 
North Hempstead, last fall (of 1817) 
when I had just read, in the Courier 
English news-paper, of a Noble Lord 
who had been sent on his travels to 
France at ten 3'^ears of age, and who, 
from his high-blooded ignorance of 
vulgar things, I suppose, had swaU 
lotved a whole ear of corn, which, 
as the newspaper told us, had well- 
nigh choaked the Noble Lord. The 
C 2! 



20 CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. [PART I. 

1817. 

June 3. Landlord had just bpen showing 
me some of his fine ears of Corn ; 
and I took the paper out of my 
pocket and read the paragraph : 
" What !" said he, *' swallow a ivhole 
" ear of corn at once ! No wonder 
" that they have swallowed up poor 
" Old John Bull's substance." After 
a hearty laugh, we explained to 
him, that it must have been wheat 
ov barley. Then he said, and very 
justly, that the Lord must have been 
a much greater fool than a hog is. — 
The plant of the Indian corn grows, 
upon an average, to about 8 feet 
high, and sends forth the most beau- 
tiful leaves, resembling the broad 
leaf of the water-flag. It is planted 
in hills or rows, so that the plough 
can go between the standing crop. 
Its stalks and leaves are the best of 
fodder, if carefully stacked ; and its 
grain is good for every thing. It is 
eaten by man and beast in all the 
various shapes of whole corn, meal, 
cracked, and every other way that 
can be imagined. It is tossed down 
to hogs, sheep, cattle, in the whole 
ear. The two former thresh for 



CHAP.] CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. 21 

1817. 

June 3. themselves, and the latter eat cob 
and all. It is eaten, and is a very 
delicious thing, in its half-ripe, or 
mil/iy state; and these were the 
" ears of corn'* which the Pljarisees 
complained of the Disciples for 
plucking off to eat on the Sabbath 
Day; for, how were they to eat 
wheat ears, unless after the manner 
of the " Noble Lord" above men- 
tioned ? Besides, the Indian Corn is 
a native of Palestine. The French, 
who, doubtless, brought it originally 
from the Levant, call it Turkish 
Corn. The Locusts y that John the 
Baptist lived on, were not (as I used 
to wonder at when a boy) the 
noxious vermin that devoured the 
land of Egypt ; but the bean, which 
comes in the long pods borne by 
the three- thorned Locust-tree, and 
of which I have an abundance here. 
The wild honey was the honey of 
wild bees; and the hollow trees 
here contain swarms of them. The 
trees are cut, sometimes, in winter, 
and the part containing the swarm, 
brought and placed near the house, 
I saw this lately in Pennsylvania. 



22 CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. [PART I. 

1817. 

June 4. Fine rain. Began about ten o'clock. 

5. Rain nearly all day. 

6. Fine and warm. Things grow sur- 
prizingly. 

7. Fine and warm. Rather cold at 
night. 

8. Hot. 

9. Rain all day. The wood green, and 
so beautiful ! The leaves look so 
fresh and delicate ! But, the Flow- 
ering Locust only begins to show 
leaf. It will, by and by, make up, by 
its beauty, for its shyness at present. 

10. Fine warm day. The cattle are up 
to their eyes in grass. 

11. Fine warm day. Like the very, 
very finest in England in June. 

12. Fine day. And, when I say fine, I 
mean really fine, ^ot a cloud in 
the sky. 

IS. Fine and hot. About as hot as the 
hottest of our English July weather 
in common years. Lucerne, 2| feet 
high. 

14. Fine and hot ; but, we have always 

a breeze when it is hot, which I did 

not formerly find in Pennsylvania. 

This arises, I suppose, from our 

• nearness to the sea. 



CHAP. I.] CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. 2S 

1817. 
June 15. Rain all day. 

16. Fine, beautiful day. Never saw 
such fine weather. Not a morsel 
of dirt. The ground sucks up all. 
I walk about and work in the land 
in shoes made of deer-skin. They 
are dressed whiter like breeches- 
leather. I began to leave off my 
coat to day, and do not expect to 
put it on again till October. - My 
hat is a white chip, with broad 
brims. Never better health. 

17. Fine day. The partridges (miscalled 
quails) begin to sit. The orchard 
full of birds' nests ; and, amongst 
others, a dove is sitting on her eggs 
in an apple tree. 

18. Fine day. Green peas fit to gather 
in pretty early gardens, though only 
of the common hotspur sort. May- 
duke cherries begin to be ripe. 

19. Fine day. But, now comes my 
, alarm ! The musquitoes^ and, still 

worse, the common house-Jiy, v/hich 
used to plague us so in Pennsylvania, 
and which were tlieonly things lever 
disliked belonging to the climate of 
America. Musquitoes are bred in 
stagnant water iO'iw\i\ch. here is none. 



24 CLIMA rE, SEASONS, &C. [PART I. 

1817. 
June 19. FJies are bred in Jilth, of which 
none shall be* near me as long as I 
can use a shovel and a broom. They 
will ioWow fresh meat and Jish. Have 
neither, or be very careful, I have 
this day put all these precautions 
in practice J and, now let us see the 
result. 

20. Fine day. Carrots and parsnips, 
S0ZV71 on the 3d and ^th instant^ all 
up, and in rough leaf! Onions up. 
The whole garden green in 18 days 
from the sowins:. 

21. Very hot. Thunder and heavy rain 
at night. 

22. Fine day. May-duke cherries ripe. 

23. Hot and close. Distant thunder. 

24. Fine day. 

25. Fine day. White-heart and black- 
heart cherries getting ripe. 

26. Rain. Planted out cucumbers and 
melons. I find I am rather late. 

27- Fine day. 

28. Fine day. Gathered cherries for 
drying for winter use. 

29. Fine day. 

30. Rain all night. People are planting 
out their cabbages for the winter 
crop. 



CHAP I.] CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. 25 

1817. 

July 1. Fine day. Bought 20 bushels of 
English salt for half a dollar a bushel. 

2. Fine day. 

3. Fine day. 

4. Fine day. Carrots, sown 3d June, 
3 inches high. 

; . :,; 5. Very hot day. Nojliesyet, 

6. Fine hot day. Currants ripe. Oats 
in haw. Rye nearly ripe. Indian 
corn two feet high. Hay-making 
nearly done. 

7. Rain and thunder early in the morn- 

ing. 

8. Fine hot day. Wear no waistcoat 
now, except in the morning and 
evening. 

9. Fine hot day. Apples to make pud- 
dings and pies ; but our housekeeper 
does not know how to make an apple- 
pudding. She puts the pieces of 
apple amongst the batter ! She has 
not read Peter Pindar. 

10. Fine hot day. I work in the land 
morning and evening, and write in 
the day in a north room. The dress 
is now become a very convenient, 
or, rather, a very little inconvenient 



26 



CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. [PART I. 



1817. 
July 10. affair. Shoes, trowsers, shirt and 
hat. No plague of dressing and un- 
dressing ! 

11. Fine hot day in the morning, but 
began to grow dark in the afternoon. 
A sort of haze canne over. 

12. Very hot day. The common black 
cherries, the little red honey cherries, 
all ripe now, and falling and rotting 
by the thousands of pounds weight. 
But, this place which I rent is re- 
markable for abundance of cherries. 
Some early peas, sown in the second 
week in June, fit for the table. This 
is thirty days from the time of sow- 
ing. No files yet I No musquitoes I 

IS. Hot and heavy, like the pleading of 
a quarter-sessions lawyer. No breeze 
to-day, which is rarely the case. 

14. Fine day. The Indian corn four 
feet high. 

15. Fine day. We eat turnips sown on 
the second of June. Early cabbages 
(a gift) sown in May. 

16. Fine hot day. Fine young onions, 
sown on the 8th of June. 

17. Fine hot day. Harvest of wheat. 



CHAP. L] climate, seasons, &C. ^1 

1817. 
July 17. rye, oats and barley, half done. But, 
indeed, what is it to do when the 
weather does so much ! 

18. Fine hot day. 

19. Rain all day. 

20. Fine hot day, and some wind. All 
dry again as completely as if it had 
not rained for a year. 

21. Fine hot day; but heavy rain at 
night. Flies, a few. Not more than 
in England. My son John, who 
has just returned from Pennsyl- 
vania, says they are as great tor- 
ments there as ever. At a friend's 
house (a farm house) there, two 
quarts of flies were caught in one 
window in one day ! I do not be- 
lieve that there are two quarts in 
all my premises. But, then, I cause 
all wash and slops to be carried forty 
yards from the house. I suffer no 
peelings or greens, or any rubbish, 
to lie near the house. I suffer iio 
fresh meat to remain more than one 
day fresh in the house. I proscribe 
all fish. Do not suffer a dog to 
enter the house. Keep all pigs at 
a distance of sixty yards. And 



28 CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. [PART I. 

1817. 
July 21. sweep all round about once every 
week at least. 

22. Fine hot day. 

23. Fine hot day. Sowed Buck-wheat 
in a piece of very poor ground. 

24. Fine hot day. Harvest (for grain) 
nearly over. The main part of the 
wheaty &c. is put into Bajvis, which 
are very large and commodious. 
Some they put into small ricks, or 
stacks, out in the fields, and there 
they stand, without any thatching, 
till they are wanted to be taken in 
during the winter, and, sometimes 
they remain out for a whole year. 
Nothing can prove more clearly 
than this fact, the great difference 
between this climate and that of 
England, where, as every body 
knows, such stacks would be mere 
heaps of muck by January, if they 
were not, long and long before that 
time, carried clean off the farm by 
the wind. The crop is sometimes 
threshed out in the field by the feet 
of horses, as in the South of France. 
It is sometimes cj^rried into the 
barn's floor, wbere three or four 



CHAP. I.] CLIMATE, SEASONS, &c. 29 

1817. 
July 24. horses, or oxen, going abreast, tram- 
ple out the grain as the sheaves, or 
swarths, are brought in. And this 
explains to us the humane precept 
of Moses, " not to muzzle the ox 
" as he treadeth out the graiuy* 
which we country people in Eng- 
land cannot make out. 1 used to be 
puzzled, too, in the story of RUTH, 
to imagine how BOAZ could be busy 
amongst his threshers in the height 
of harvest. — The weather is so fine, 
and the grain so dry, that, when the 
w^heat and rye are threshed by the 
flail, the sheaves are barely untied, 
laid upon the floor, receive a few 
raps, and are then tied up, clean 
threshed for straw, without the or- 
der of the straws being in the least 
changed ! The ears and butts retain 
their places in the sheaf, and the 
• band that tied the sheaf before ties 
it again. The straw is as bright as 
burnished gold. Not a speck in it. 
These facts will speak volumes to an 
English farmer, who will see with 
what ease work must be done in 
such a country. 



50 CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. [PART I. 

1817. 
July 25. Fine hot day. Early pea, men- 
tioned before, harvested, in forty 
days from the sowing. Not more 
files than in Engla?id. 

26. Fine broiling day. The Indian Corn 
grows away now, and has, each 
plant, at least a tumbler full of water 
standing in the sockets of its leaves, 
while the sun seems as if it would 
actually burn one. Yet we have a 
breeze i and, under these fine shady 
Walnuts and Locusts and Oaks, and 
on the fine grass beneath, it is very 
pleasant. Woodcocks begin to come 
very thick about. 

27. Fine broiler again. Some friends 
from England here to-day. We spent 
a pleasant day; drank success to the 
Debt, and destruction to the Borough- 
mongers, in gallons of milk and wa- 
ter. — Not more files than in England. 

28. Very, very hot. The Thermometer 
9^5 degrees in the shade; but a 
breeze. Never slept better in all 
my life. No covering. A sheet un- 
der me, and a straw bed. And then, 
so happy to have no clothes to put 
on but shoes and trowsers ! My 



CHAP. I.] CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. 31 

1817. 
July 28. window looks to the East. The 
moment the Aurora appears, I am 
in the Orchard. It is impossible for 
any human being to lead a pleasanter 
life than this. How I pity those, 
who are compelled to endure the 
stench of cities ; but, for those who 
remain there without being com- 
pelled, I have no pity. 

29. Still the same degree of heat. I 
measured a water-melon runner, 
which grew eighteen inches in the 
last 48 hours. The deivs now are 
equal to showers; I frequently, in 
the morning, wash hands and face, 
feet and legs, in the dew on the 
high grass. The Indian Corn shoots 
up now so beautifully ! 

30. Still melting hot. 

31. Same weather. 

August 1. Same weather. I takeoff two shirts 
iw' a day wringing wet, I have a clothes- 

horse to hang them on to dry. Drink 
about 20 good tumblers of milk and 
water every day. No ailments. Head 
always clear. Go to bed by day- 
light very often. Just after the hens 
go to roost, and rise again with them. 

August 2. Hotter and hotter, I think j but, in 



32 CLIMATE, SEASONS, &c. [PART I. 

1817. 

August 2, this weather we always have our 
friendly breeze. — Not a single mus- 
qidto yet. 

3. Cloudy and a little shattering of 
rain ; but not enough to lay the dust. 

4. Fine hot day. 

5. A very little rain. Dried up in a 
minute. Planted cabbages with dust 
running into the holes. 

6. Fine hot day. 

7» Appearances forebode rain. — I have 
observed that, when rain is approach- 
ing, the stones (which are the rock 
stone of the country), with which a 
piazza adjoining the house is paved, 
get wet. This wet appears, at first, at 
the top of each round stone, and, then, 
by degrees, goes all over it. Rain is 
sure to follow. It has never missed ; 
and, which is very curious, the rain 
lasts exactly as long as the stones take 
to get all over wet before it comes ! 
The stones dry again before the rain 
ceases. However, this foreknowledge 
of rain is of little use here; for, 
when it comes, it is sure to be soon 
gone ; and to be succeeded by a sun, 
which restores all to rights. 



CHAP. I.] CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. 33 

1817. 

August 7. I wondered, at first, why I never saw 
any barometers in people's houses, as 
almost every farmer has them in 
England. But, I soon found, that 
they would be, if perfectly true, of 
no use. Eaiiy pears ripe. 

8. Fine Rain. It comes pouring down. 

9. Rain still, which has now lasted 60 
hours. — Killed a lamb, and, in order 
to keep it fresh, sunk it down into 
the well. — The wind makes the In- 
dian Corn bend. 

10. Fine clear hot day. The grass, 

which wa^ brown the day before 
yesterday, is already beautifully 
green. In one place, where there 
appeared no signs of vegetation, the 
grass is tzco inches high. 

11. Heavy rains at night. 

12. Hot and close. 

13. Hot and close. 

14. Hot and close. No breezes these 
three days. 

15. Very hot indeed. 80 degrees in a 
North aspect at 9 in the evening. 
Three wet shirts to day. Obliged to 
put on a dry shirt to go to bed in. 

16. Very hot indeed. 85 degrees; the 
thermometer hanging under the Lo- 

D 



34 CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. [PART I. 

1817. 
Aug. 16. cust trees and swinging about with 
the breeze. The dews are now like 
heavy showers. 

17. Fine hot clay. Very hot. I fight 
the Borough-villains, stripped to my 
shirt, and with nothing on besides, 
but shoes and trowsers. Never ill ; 
no head- aches ; no rauddled brains. 
The milk and xvaicr is a great cause 
of this. I live on salads, other gar- 
den vegetables, apple-puddings and 
pies, butter, cheese {yery good from 
Rhode Island), eggs, and bacon. 
Resolved to have no more fresh meat, 
'till cooler weather comes. Those 
who have a mind to swallow, or be 
swallowed by, jiies, may eat fresh 
meat for me. 

18. Fine and hot. 

19. Very hot. 

20. Very hot; but a breeze every day 

and night. — Buckwheat, sown 23rd 
July, 9 inches high, and, poor as the 
ground was, looks very well. 

21. Fine hot day. 

22. Fine hot day. 

23. Fine hot day. I have now got an 
English woman servant, and she 
makes us famous apple-puddings. 



CHAP. I.] CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. 35 

1817. 
Aug. 23. She says she has never read Peter 
Pindar's account of the dialogue be- 
tween the King and the Cottage- 
woman ; and yet she knows very 
well how to get the apples within 
side of the paste. N. B. No man 
ought to come here, whose wife and 
daughters cannot make puddings 
and pies. 

24. Fine hot dav. 

25. Fine hot day. 

26. Fine hot day. 

27. Fine hot day. Have not seen a 
cloud for many days. 

28. Windy and rather coldish. Put on 
cotton stockings and a waistcoat 
with sleeves. Do not like this wea- 
ther. 

29. Same weather. Do not like it. 

SO. Fine and hot again. Give a great 
many apples to hogs. Get some 
hazle-nuts in the wild grounds. 
Larger than the English : and much 
about the same taste. 

31. Fine hot day. Frod'ig'ious dews. 
. Sept. 1. Fine and hot. 

2. Fine and hot. 

3. Famously hot. Fine breezes. Be- 
gan imitating the Disciples, at least 

D 2 



36 CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. [PART I. 

1817. 

Sept. 3. in their diet ; for, to day, we began 
"plucking the ears of coriiH'' in a 
patch planted in the garden on the 
second of June. But, we, in imita- 
tion of Pindar's pilgrim, take the li- 
berty to boil our Corn. We shall not 
starve now. 

4. Fine and hot. 83 degrees under the 
Locust-trees. 

5. Very hot indeed, but fair, with our 
old breeze. 

6. Same weather. 

7. Same weather. 

8. Same weather. 

9. Rather hotter. We, amongst seven 
of us, eat about 25 ears of Corn a 
day. With me it wholly supplies 
the place of bread. It is the choicest 
gift of God to man, in the way of 
food. I remember, that Arthur 
Young observes, that the proof of 
a good climate is, that Indian Corn 
comes to perfection in it. Our Corn 
is very fine. I believe, that a wine- 
glass full of milk might be squeezed 
out of one ear. No wonder the Dis- 
ciples were- tempted to pluck it when 
they were hungry, though it was on 
the Sabbath day ! 



CHAP. I.] CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. 37 

1817. 

Sept. 10. Appearances for rain J and, it is time j 
for my neighbours begin to cry out, 
and our rain-water cistern begins to 
shrink. The well \s there, to be sure; 
but, to pull up water from 70 feet is 
no joke, while it requires nearly as 
much sweat to get it up, as we get 
water. 

1 1. No rain ; but cloudy. 83 degrees in 
the shade. 

12. Rain and very hot in the morning. 
Thunder and heavy rain at night. 

13. Cloudy and cool. Only 55 degrees 
in shade. 

14. Cloudy and cool. 

15. Fair and cool. Made a Jive to write 
by. Don't like this weather. 

16. Rain, warm. 

17. Beautiful day. Not very hot. Just 
like a fine day in July in England 
after a rain. 

18. Same weather. Wear stockings now 
and a waistcoat and neck-handker- 
chief. 

19. Same weather. Finished our Indian 

Corn, which, on less than 4 rods, or 
perches, of ground, produced 447 
ears. It was singularly well culti- 
vated. It was the long yellow Corn. 



38 CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. [PART I. 

1817. 
Sept. 19. Seed given me by my excellent neigh- 
bour, Mr. John Tredvvell. 

20. Same weather. 

21. Same weather. 

22. Same weather. 

23. Cloiuly and hotter. 

24. Fine rain all last night and until ten 
o'clock to-day. 

25. Beautiful day. 

26. Same weather. 70 degrees in shade. 
Hot as the hot days in August in 
England. 

27. Rain all last night. 

28. Very fine and warm. Left off the 
stockings again. 

29. Very fine, 70 degrees in shade. 
SO. Same weather. 

October 1. Same weather. Fresh meat keeps 
pretty well now. 

2. Very fine ; but, there was a little 
frost this morning, which did not, 

however, affect the late sown Kid- 
ney BeanSf which are as tender as the 
cucumber plant. 

3. Cloudy and warm. 

4. Very fine and warm, 70 degrees in 
shade. The apples are very fine. 
We are now cutting them and 
quinces, to dry for winter use. My 



CHAP. I.] CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. 39 

1817. 

Oct. 4. neighbours give me quinces. We 
are also cutting up and drying 
peaches. 

5. Very fine and warm. Dwarf Kidney 
beans very fine. 

6. Very fine and warm. CtUti7ig Buck- 
wheat. ' ' 

7. Very fine and warm. ^5 degrees in 
shade at 7 o'clock this morning. — 
Windy in the afternoon. The wind 
is knocking down the fall-pipins 
for us. One picked up to-day 
weighed 121 ounces avoirdupois 
weight. The average weight is 

c, about 9 ounces, or, perhaps, 10 

ounces. This is the finest of all 
apples. Hardly any core. Some 
none at all. The richness of the 
pine-apple without the roughness. 
If the King could have seen one of 
these in a dumpling ! This is not the 
Newtown Pipin, which is sent to 
England in such quantities. That 
is a winter apple. Very fine at 
Christmas j but far inferior to this 
fall-pipin, taking them both in their 
state of perfection. It is useless to 
send the trees to England, unless 
the heat of the sun and the rains 



40 



CLIMATE, SEASONS, &c. [PART I. 



1817. 

Oct. 7. and the dews could be sent along 
with the trees. 

8. Very fine, 68 in shade. 

9. Same weather. 

10. Same weather, 59 degrees in shade. 
A little white frost this morning. It 
just touched the lips of the kidney 
bean leaves; but, not those of the 
cucumbers or melons, which are 
near fences. 

11. Beautiful day. 61 degrees in shade. 
Have not put on a coat yet. Wear 
thin stockings, or socks, waistcoat 
with sleeves, and neckcloth. In 
New York Market, Kidney Beans 
and Green peas. 

12. Beautiful day. 70 degrees in shade. 

13. Same weather. 

14. Rain. 50 degrees in shade. Like 
a fine, warm, June rain in England. 

15. Beautiful day. 6& degrees in shade. 
Here is a motith of October ! 

16. Same weather. 51 degrees in shade. 

17. Same weather, but a little warmer in 
the day. A smart frost this morn- 
ing. The kidney beans, cucumber 
and melon plants, pretty much cut 
by it. 

18. A little rain in the night. A most 



CHAP. I.] CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. 41 

1817. 
Oct. 18. beautiful day. 54 degrees in shade. 
A June day for England. 

19. A very white frost this morning. 
Kidney beans, cucumbers, melons, 
all demolished; but a beautiful day. 
56 degrees in shade. 

20. Another frost, and just such ano- 
ther day. Threshing Buckzvheai in 
Jield. 

21. No frost. 58 degrees in shade. 

22. Finest of English June days. 67 
degrees in shade. 

23. Beautiful day. 70 degrees in shade. 
Very iew summers in England that 
have a day hotter than this. It is 
this fine sun that makes the fine 
apples ! 

24. Same weather precisely. Finished 
Buckwheat threshing and winnow- 
ing. The men have been away at 
a horse-race ; so that it has laid out 
in the field, partly threshed and 
partly not, for five days. If rain 
had come, it would have been of no 
consequence. All would have been 
dry again directly afterwards. What 
a stew a man would be in, in Eng- 
land, if he had his grain lying 
about out of doors in this way ! 



42 CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. [PART I. 

1817. 
Oct. 24. The cost of threshing and winnow- 
ing 60 bushels was 7 dollars, 1/. ll.v. 
Qd. English money, that is to say, 
h-s. a quarter, or eight Winchester 
bushels. But, then, the carting 
was next to nothing. Therefore, 
though the labourers had a dollar a 
day eachi the expense, upon the 
whole, was not so great as it would 
have been in England. So much 
does the climate do ! 
2^. Rain. A warm rain, like a fine 
June rain in England. 57 degrees 
in shade. The late frosts have 
killed, or, at least, pinched the 
leaves of the trees y and they are 
now red, yellow, russet, brown, or 
of a dying green. Never was any 
thing so beautiful as the bright sun, 
shining through these fine lofty 
trees upon the gay verdure beneath. 

26. Rain. Warm. 58 degrees in shade. 
This is the general Indian Corn 
harvest. 

27. Rain. Warm. 58 degrees in shade. 
Put on coat, black hat and black 
shoes. 

*ii8. Fine day. 5Q degrees in shade. 
Pulled up a Radish that weighed 



CHAP. I.] CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. 43 

1817. 
Oct. 28. 12 pounds I I say twelve, and mea- 
sured 2 feet 5 inches round. From 
common English seed. 

29. Very fine indeed. 

30. Ver}'^ fine and warm. 

31. Very fine. 54 degrees in shade. 
Gathered our last lot of winter ap- 
ples. 

Nov. 1. R^in all the last night and all this 
day. 

2. Rain still. 54 degrees in shade. 
Warm. Things grow well. The 
grass very, fine and luxuriant. 

3. Very fine indeed. 5Q in shade. 
Were it not for the colour of the 
leaves of the trees, all would look 
like June in England. 

4. Very, very fine. Never saw such 
pleasant weather. Digging Po- 
tatoes. 

5. Same weather precisely. 

6. A little cloudy, but warm. 

7. Most beautiful weather ! 63 degrees 
in shade. N. B. This is November. 

8. A little cloudy at night fall. 6S 
degrees in shade ; that is to say, 
English Summer heat all but 7 de- 
grees. 

9. Very fine. 



44 CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. [PART I. 

1817. 

Nov. 10. Very fine. 

11. Very fine. When I got up this 
morning, I found the thermometer 
hanging on the Locust trees, drip- 
ping with dew, at C2 degrees. Left 
off m\) coat again. 

12. Same weather. 69 degrees in shade. 

13. Beautiful day, but cooler. 

14. Same weather. 50 degrees in shade. 
The high-ways and paths as clean 
as a boarded floor ; that is to say, 
from dirt or mud. 

15. Gentle rain. 53 in shade. Like a 
gentle rain in May in England. 

16. Gentle rain. AVarm. 5^ in shade. 
What a November" for an English- 
man to see I My white turnips have 
grown almost the whole of their 
growth in this month. The Swedish, 
planted late, grow surprisingly now, 
and have a luxuriancy of appear- 
ance exceeding any thing of the kind 
I ever saw. We have fine loaved 
lettuces ; endive, young onions, 
young radishes, cauliflowers with 
heads five inches over. The rye 
fields grow beautifully. They have 
been food for cattle for a month, or 
six weeks, past. 



CHAP. T.] CLIMATE, SEASONS, &c. 45 

1817. 
Nov. 17. Cloudy. Warm. 

18. Same weather. 55 degrees in shade. 

19. Frost, and the ground pretty hard. 

20. Very fine indeed. Warm. 55 de- 
grees in shade. 

21. Same weather. 

22. Cold, damp air, and cloudy. 
^ 23. Smart frost at night. 

24. 

25 I 1 • 

* VSame. Warm in the day time. 

27. 

28. 7 

QQ >Same; but more warm m the day. 

SO. Fine warm and beautiful day; no 
frost at night. 57 degrees in shade. 
Dec. 1. Same weather precisely; but, we 
begin to fear the setting-in of winter, 
and I am very busy in covering up 
cabbages, mangle wurzle, turnips, 
beets, carrots, parsnips, parsley, &c. 
the mode of doing which (not less 
useful in England than here, though 
not so indispensably necessary) shall 
be described when I come to speak 
of the management of these several 
plants. 
2. Fine warm rain. 5Q in shade. 



46 



CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. [PART I. 



1817. 



Dec. 



3. 
4. 
5. 
6. 

7. 
8. 



Very fair and pleasant, but frost 
sufficiently hard to put a stop to 
our getting up and stacking tur- 
nips. Still, however, the cattle 
and sheep do pretty well upon 
the grass which is long and dead. 
( Fatting oxen we feed with the 
greens of Ruta Baga, with some 
corn (Indian, mind) tossed dowr> 
to them in the ear. Sheep (ewes 
that had lambs in spring) we kill 
veri/ fat from the grass. No dirt. 
^JWhat a clean and convenient soil ! 
9. Thaw. No rain. We get on with 
our work again. 

10. Open mild weather. 

11. Same weather. Very pleasant. 

12. Rain began last night. 

13. Rain all day. 

14. Rain all day. The old Indian re- 
mark is, that the winter does not 
set in till the ponds be full. It is 
coming, then. 

Rain till 2 o'clock. We kill mutton 
now. Ewes brought from Connec- 
ticut, and sold to me here at 2 dol- 
lars each in July, just after shearing. 
I sell them now alive at 3 dollars 



o. 



CHAP. I.] CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. 4? 

1817. 
Dec. 15. each from the grass. Killed and 
sent to market, they leave me the 
loose fat for candles, and fetch about 
3 dollars and a quarter besides. 

16. Sharp North West wind. This is 
the cold American Wind. " A North 
Wester'^ means all that can be ima- 
gined of clear in summer and cold in 
winter. I remember hearing from 
that venerable and excellent man, 
Mr. Baron Maseres, a very ele- 
gant eulogium on the Summer North 
AVester, in England. This is the 
only public servant that I ever heard 
of, who refused a proffered augmen- 
tation of salary ! 

17. A hardish frost. 

18. Open weather again. 

19. Fine mild dayj but began freezing 
at night-fall. 

20. Hard frost. 

21. Very sharp indeed. Thermometer 
down to 10 degrees ; that is to 
say, 22 degrees colder than barely 
freezing. 

22. Same weather. Makes us riuiy 
where we used to walk in the fall, 
and to saunter in the summer. It 
is no new thing to me ; but it makes 



48 CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. [PART I. 

1817. 
Dec. 22. our other English people shrug up 
their shoulders. 

23. Frost greatly abated. Stones show 
for wet. It will come, in spite of 
all the fine serene sky, which we 
now see. 

24. A thaw. — Servants made a lot of 
candles from mutton and beef fat, 
reserving the coarser parts to make 
soap. 

25. Rain. Had some English friends. 
Sirloin of own beef Spent the 
evening in light of own candles, as 
handsome as I ever saw, and, I 
think, the very best I ever saw. 
The reason is, that the tallow is 
freshf and that it is unmixed with 
grease, which, and staleness, is the 
cause, I believe, of candles running, 
and plaguing us while we are using 
them. What an injury is it to the 
farmers in England, that they dare 
not, in this way, use their own pro- 
duce ; Is it not a mockery to call a 
man free, who no more dares turn 
out his tallow into candles for his 
own use, than he dares rob upon 
the highway ? Yet, it is only by 
means of tyranny and extortion like 



CHAP. I.] CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. 49 

1817. 
Dec. 25. this, that the hellish system of fund- 
ing and of Seat-selling can be up- 
held. * 

26. Fine warm day. 52 degrees in shade. 

27. Cold, but little frost. 

28. Same weather. Fair and pleasant. 
The late sharp frost has changed to 
a complete yellow every leaf of some 
Swedish Turnips (Ruta Baga), left 
to take their chance. It is a poor 
chance, I believe ! 

29. Same weather. 

30. Rain all day. 

31. Mild and clear. No frost. * 
1818. 

Jan. 1. Same weather. 

2. Same weather. 

3. Heavy rain. 

4. A frost that makes us jump and 
skip about like larks. Very sea- 
sonable for a sluggish fellow. Pre- 
pared for winter. Patched up a 
boarded building, which was for- 
merly a coach-house; but, which is 
not so necessary to me, in that ca- 
pacity, as in that of a fowl-house. 
The neighbours tell me, that the 
poultry will roost out on the trees 

E 



30 CLIMATE, SEASONS, &c. [PART 1. 

1818. 

Jan. 4. all the winter, which, the weather 
being so dry in winter, is very likely j 
and, indeed, they must, if they have 
no housCy which is almost universally 
the case. However, 1 mean to give 
the poor things a choice. I have 
lined the said coach-house with corn- 
stalks and leaves of trees, and have 
tacked up cedar-boughs to hold the 
lining to the boards, and have laid a 
bed of leaves a foot thick all over the 
floor. I have secured all against 
dogs, and have made ladders for the 
fowls to go in at holes six feet from 
the ground. I have made pig-styes, 
lined round with cedar-boughs and 
well covered. A sheep-yard, for a 
score of ewes to have lambs in spring, 
surrounded with a hedge of cedar- 
boughs, and with a shed for the 
ewes to lie under, if they like. The 
oxen and cows are tied up in a stall. 
The dogs have a place, well covered, 
and lined with corn-stalks and leaves. 
And now, I can, without anxiety, 
sit by the fire, or lie in bed, and 
hear the North-Wester whistle. 
5. Frost. Like what we call " a hard 
** frost " in England. 



CHAP. I.] CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. 51 

1818. 

Jan. 6. Such another frost at night, but a 
thaw in the middle of the day. 

7. Little frost. Fine warm day. The 
sun seems loth to quit us. 

8. Same weather. 

9. A harder frost, and snow at night. 
The fowls, which have been peeping 
at my ladders for two or three even- 
ings, and partially roosting in their 
house, made their general entry this 
evening I They are the best judges 
of what is best for them. The tur- 
keys boldly set the weather at de- 
fiance, and still roost on the top, the 
ridge, of the roof, of the house. 
Their feathers prevent their legs from 
being frozen, and so it is with all 
poultry ; but, still, a house must, one 
•would think, be better than the open 
air at this season. 

' 10. Snow, but sloppy. I am now at 
New York on my way to Pennsylva- 
nia. N. B. This journey into Penn- 
sylvania had, for its principal ob- 
ject, an appeal to the justice of the 
Legislature of that State for redress 
for great loss and injury sustained 
by me, nearly twenty years ago, in 
consequence of the tyranny of one 
E2 



5^2 CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. [PART I. 

1818. 
Jan. 10. McKean, who was then the Chief 
Justice of that State. The appeal 
has not yet been successful ; but, as 
I confidently expect, that it finally 
will, I shall not, at present, say any 
thing more on the subject. — My 
journey was productive of much and 
various observation, and, I trust, of 
useful knowledge. But, in this place, 
I shall do little more than give an 
account of the weather; reserving for 
the Second Part, accounts o( prices 
of land, &c. which will there come 
under their proper heads. 

11. Frost but not hard. Now at New 
York. 

12. Very sharp frost. Set off for Phila- 
delphia. Broke down on the road 
in New Jersey. 

13. Very hard frost still. Found the 
Delaware, which divides New Jer- 
sey from Pennsylvania, frozen over. 
Good roads now. Arrive at Phila- 
delphia in the evening. 

14. Same weather. 

15. Same weather. The question ea- 
gerly put to me by every one in 
Philadelphia, is " Don't you think 



CHAP. I.] CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. 53 

1818. 
Jan. 15. " the city greath/ improved?** They 
seem to me to confound augmentation 
with improvement. It always was a 
fine city, since I first knew it ; and 
it is very greatly augmented. It 
has, I beheve, nearly doubled its 
extent and number of houses since 
the year 1799. But, after being, 
for so long a time, familiar with 
London, every other place appears 
little. After living within a few 
hundreds of yards of Westminster 
Hall and the Abbey Church and the 
Bridge, and looking from my own 
windows into St. James's Park, all 
other buildings and spots appear 
mean and insignificant. I went to 
day to see the house I formerly oc- 
cupied. How small ! It is always 
thus: the words large and small are 
carried about with us in our minds, 
and we forget real dimensions. The 
idea, such as it was received^ remains 
during our absence from the object. 
When I returned to England, in 
1800, after an absence from the 
country parts of it, of sixteen years, 
the trees, the hedges, even the 
parks and woods, seemed so small I 



54 CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. [PART I. 

1818. i 

Jan. 15. It made me laugh to hear little 
gutters, that I could jump over, 
called Rivers ! The Thames was 
but a " Creek ! " But, when, in 
about a month after my arrival in 
London, I went to Farjiham, the 
place of my birth, what was my 
surprise ! Every thing was become 
so pitifully small ! I had to cross, 
in my post-chaise, the long and 
dreary heath of Bagshot. Then, at 
the end of it, to mount a hill, called 
Hungry Hill ; and from that hill I 
/ knew that I should look down into 

the beautiful and fertile vale of Farn- 
ham. My heart fluttered with im- 
patience mixed with a sort of fear, 
to see all the scenes of my child- 
hood ; for I had learnt before, the 
death of my father and mother. 
There is a hill, not far from the 
town, called Crookshury Hill, which 
rises up out of a flat, in the form of 
a cone, and is planted with Scotch 
fir trees. Here I used to take the 
eggs and young ones of crows and 
magpies. This hill was a famous 
object in the neighbourhood. It 
served as the superlative degree of 



CHAP. I.] CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. 55 

1818. 
Jan. 15. height. " As high as Crookshiiry 
" HilV meant, with us, the utmost 
degree of height. Therefore, the 
iirst object that my eyes sought was 
this hill. / could not believe my 
eyes ! Literally speaking, I for a 
moment, thought the famous hill re- 
moved, and a little heap put in its 
stead ; for I had seen in New Bruns- 
wick, a single rock, or hill of solid 
rock, ten times as big, and four or 
five times as high 1 The post-boy, 
going down hill, and not a bad road, 
whisked me, in a few minutes to the 
Bush Inn, from the garden of which 
I could see the prodigious sand hill, 
where I had begun my gardening 
works. What a nothing ! But now 
came rushing into my mind, all at 
once, my pretty little garden, my 
little blue smock-frock, my little 
nailed shoes, my pretty pigeons that 
I used to feed out of my hands, the 
last kind words and tears of my 
gentle and tender-hearted and affec- 
tionate mother ! I hastened back 
into the room. If I had looked 
a moment longer, I should have 
dropped. When I came to reflect. 



56 CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. [PART 1. 

1818. 
Jan. 15. zchat a change ! I looked down at 
my dress. What a change ! What 
scenes I had gone through ! How 
altered my state ! I had dined the 
day before at a secretary of state's 
in company with Mr. Pitt, and had 
been waited upon by men in gaudy 
liveries ! I had had nobody to assist 
me in the world. No teachers of 
any sort. Nobody to shelter me from 
the consequence of bad, and no one 
to counsel me to good, behaviour. I 
felt proud. The distinctions of rank, 
birth, and wealth, all became no- 
thing in my eyesj and from that 
moment (less than a month after my 
arrival in England) I resolved never 
to bend before them. 

16. Same weather. Went to see my old 
Quaker-friends at Bustleton, and 
particularly my beloved friend James 
Paul, who is very ill. 

17. Returned to Philadelphia. Little 
frost and a little snow. 
Moderate frost. Fine clear sky. 
The Philadelphians are cleanly^ a 
quality which they owe chiefly to 
the Quakers. But, after being long 
and recently familiar with the towns 



CHAP. I.] CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. 57 

1818. 
Jan. 21. in Surrey and Hampshire, and espe- 
cially with Guildford, Alton, and 
Southampton, no other towns appear 
clean and neat, not even Bath or 
Salisbury, which last is much about 
upon a par, in point of cleanliness, 
with Philadelphia ; and, Salisbury is 
deemed a very cleanly place. Bland- 
ford and Dorchester are clean ; but, 
I have never yet seen any thing 
like the towns in Surrey and Hamp- 
shire. If a Frenchman, born and 
bred, could be taken up and car- 
ried blindfold to Guildford, I wonder 
what his sensations would be, when 
he came to have the use of his 
sight ! Every thing near Guildford 
seems to have received an influence 
from the town. Hedges, gates, stiles, 
gardens, houses inside and out, and 
the dresses of the people. The 
market day at Guildford is a perfect 
show of cleanliness. Not even a 
carter without a clean smock-frock 
and closely-shaven and clean-washed 
face. Well may Mr. Birkbeck, who 
came from this very spot, think the 
people dirty in the western country ! 
I'll engage he finds more dirt upon 



58 CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. [PART I. 

1818. 
Jan. 21. the necks and faces of one family 
of his present neighbours, than he 
left behind him upon the skms of 
all the people in the three parishes 
of Guildford. However, he would 
not have found this to be the case 
in Pennsylvania, and especially in 
those parts where the Quakers 
abound ; and, I am told, that, in 
the New England States, the peo- 
ple are as cleanly and as neat as 
they are in England. The sweetest 
flowers, when they become putrid, 
stink the most; and, a nasty wo- 
man is the nastiest thing in na- 
ture. 

22. Hard frost. My business in Penn- 
sylvania is with the legislature. It 
is sitting at Harrisburgh. Set off 
to-day by stage. Fine country j fine 
barns ; fine farms. Must speak par- 
ticularly of these in another place. 
Got to Lancaster. The largest zw- 
land town in the United States. 
A very clean and good town. No 
beggarly houses. All looks like ease 
and plenty. 

23. Harder frost, but not very severe. 
Almost as cold as the weather was 



CHAP. I.] CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. 59 

1818. 
Jan. 23. during the six weeks continuance of 
the snow, in 1814, in England. 

24. The same weather continues. 

25. A sort of half thaw. Sun warm. 
Harrisburgh is a new town, close 
on the left bank of the river Sus- 
QUEHANNAH, which is not frozen 
over, but has large quantities of ice 
floating on its waters. All vegeta- 
tion, and all appearance of green, 
gone away. 

26. Mild weather. Hardly any frost. 

27. Thaws. Warm. Tired to death of 
the tavern at HarrisbuRGH, though 
a very good one. The cloth spread 
three times a day. Fish, fowl, meat, 
cakes, eggs, sausages j all sorts of 
things in abundance. Board, lodg- 
ing, civil but not servile waiting on, 
beer, tea, coffee, chocolate. Price, 
a dollar and a quarter a day. Here 
we meet altogether: senators, judges, 
lawyers, tradesmen, farmers, and all. 
I am weary of the everlasting loads 
of meat. Weary of being idle. How 
few such days have I spent in my 
whole life ! 

28. Thaw and rain. My business not 
coming on, I went to a country ta- 



60 CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. [PART I. 

1818. 
Jan. 28. vern, hoping there to get a room to 
myself, in which to read my English 
papers, and sit down to writing. 
I am now at McAllister's tavern, 
situated at the foot of the first ridge 
of mountains; or rather, upon a 
little nook of land, close to the 
river, where the river has found a 
way through a break in the chain of 
mountains. Great enjoyment here. 
Sit and read and write. My mind 
is again in England. Mrs. M*AL- 
LISTER just suits me. Does not 
pester me with questions. Does not 
cram me with meat. Lets me eat 
and drink what I like, and when I 
like, and gives mugs of nice milk. 
I find, here, a very agreeable and 
instructive occasional companion, in 
Mr. McAllister the elder. But, 
of the various useful information, 
that I received from him, I must 
speak in the second part of this 
work. 
29. Very hard frost this morning. Change 
very sudden. All about the house a 
glare of ice. 
SO. Not so hard. Icicles on the trees 
on the neighbouring mountains like 



CHAP, l] climate, seasons, &C. 61 

1818. 

Jan. 30. so many millions of sparkling stones, 
when the sun shines, which is all the 
day. 
31. Same weather. Two farmers of 
Lycoming county had heard that 
William Cobbett was here. They 
modestly introduced themselves. 
What a contrast with the "yeo- 
manry cavalry /" 
Feb. 1. Same weather. About the same as 
a " hardfrosC in England. 

2. Same weather. 

3. Snow. 

4. Little snow. Not much frost. This 
day, thirty-three years ago, I enlist- 
ed as a soldier. I always keep the 
day in recollection. 

5. Having been to Harrisburgh on the 
second, returned to M*Allister*s 
to-day in a sleigh. The River be- 
gins to be frozen over. It is about 
a mile wide. 

6. Little snow again, and hardish frost. 

7. Now and then a little snow. — Talk 
with some hop-growers. Prodigious 
crops in this neighbourhood; but, 
of them in the Second Part. What 
would a Farnham man think of 
thirty hundred weight of hops upon 



62 CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. [PART I. 

1818. 

Feb. 7. four hundred hills, ploughed between, 
and the ground vines /cof ^jf^y ^^ic^pf 
This is a very curious and interest- 
ing matter. 

8. A real Frost. 

9. Sharper. They say, that the ther- 
mometer is down to 10 degrees be- 
low nought, 

10. A little milder; but very cold in- 
deed. The River completely frozen 
over, and sleighs and foot-passengers 
crossing in all directions. 

11. Went back again to Harrisburgh. 
Mild frost. 

12. Not being able to bear the idea of 
dancing attendance, came to Lan- 
castery in order to see more of this 
pretty town. A very fine Tavern 
(Slaymaker's) ; room to myself; ex- 
cellent accommodations. Warm 
fires. Good and clean beds. Civil 
but not servile, landlord. The eat- 
ing still more overdone than at Har- 
risburgh. Never saw such profu- 
sion. I have made a bargain with 
the landlord : he is to give me a 
dish of chocolate a day, instead of 
dinner. Frost, but mild. 

IS. Rain. — A real rain, but rather cold. 



CHAP. I.] CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. 63 

1818. 

Feb. 14. A complete day of rain. 

15. A hard frost; much about like a 
hard frost in the naked parts of 
Wiltshire. — Mr. Hulme joined me 
on his way to Philadelphia from the 
city of Washington. 

16. A hard frost. — Lancaster is a pretty 
place. No Jine buildings ; but no 
mean ones. Nothing splendid and 
nothing beggarly. The people of 
this town seem to have had the 
prayer of Hagar granted them : 
" Give me, O Lord, Xieither poverty 
" nor riches.*^ Here are none of 
those poor, wretched habitations, 
which sicken the sight at the out- 
skirts of cities and towns in Eng- 
land ; those abodes of the poor crea- 
tures, who have been reduced to 
beggary by the cruel extortions of 
the rich and powerful. And, this 
remark applies to all the towns of 
America that I have ever seen. This 
is a fine part of America. Big 
Barns, and modest dwelling houses. 
Barns of stone, a hundred feet long 
and forty zvide, with two floors, 
and raised roads to go into them, 
so that the waggons go into the 



4a climate, seasons, &c. [part r. 

1818. 
Feb. 16. Jirsf floor upstairs. Below are sta- 
bles, stalls, pens, and all sorts of 
conveniences. Up-stairs are rooms 
for threshed corn and grain ; for 
tackle, for meal, for all sorts of 
things. In the front (South) of the 
barn is the cattle yard. These are 
very fine buildings. And, then, all 
about them looks so comfortable, 
and gives such manifest proofs of 
ease, plenty, and happiness ! Such 
is the country of WiLLlAM Pekn's 
settling ! It is a curious thing to 
observe the farm-houses in this coun- 
try. They consist, almost without 
exception, of a considerably large 
and a very neat house, with sash win- 
dows, and of a small housCy which 
seems to have been tacked on to the 
large one ; and, the proportion they 
bear to each other, in point of di- 
mensions, is, as nearly as possi- 
ble, the proportion of size between 
a Cow and her Calf, the latter a 
month old. But, as to the cause, 
the process has been the opposite 
of this instance of the works of na- 
ture, for, it is the large house which 
has grown out of the small one. The 



CHAP. I.] CLIMATE, SEASONS, &G. 65 

1818. 
Feb. 16. father, or grandfather, while he was 
toiling for his children, lived in the 
small house, constructed chiefly by 
himself, and consisting of rude ma- 
terials. The means, accumulated 
in the small house, enabled a son 
to rear the large one ; and, though, 
when pride enters the door, the 
small house is sometimes demolish- 
ed, few sons in America have the 
folly or want of feeling to commit 
such acts of filial ingratitude, and 
of real self-abasement. For, what 
inheritance so valuable and so ho- 
nourable can a son enjoy as the 
proofs of his father's industry and 
virtue ? The progress of wealth and 
ease and enjoyment, evinced by this 
regular increase of the size of the 
farmers' dwellings, is a spectacle, at 
once pleasing, in a very high degree, 
in itself; and, in the same degree, it 
speaks the praise of the system of 
government, under which it has 
taken place. What a contrast with 
the farm-houses in England ! There 
the little farm-houses are falling in- 
to ruins, or, are actually become 
cattle-sheds, or, at best, cottages^ 
F 



66 CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. [PART I. 

1818. 
Feb. 16. as they are called, to contain a mi- 
serable labourer, who ought to have 
been a farmer, as his grandfather 
was. Five or six farms are there 
now levelled into one, in defiance of 
the law J for, there is a law to pre- 
vent it. The farmer has, indeed, a 
jftne houses but, what a life do his 
labourers lead ! The cause of this 
sad change is to be found in the 
crushing taxes ; and the cause of 
them, in the Borough usurpation, 
which has robbed the people of their 
best right, and, indeed, without 
which right, they can enjoy no other. 
They talk of the augmented popula- 
tion of England ; and, when it suits 
the purposes of the tyrants, they 
boast of this fact, as they are 
pleased to call it, as a proof of 
the fostering nature of their go- 
vernment ; though, just now, they 
are preaching up the vile and foolish 
doctrine of PaRSON MalTIIUS, who 
thinks, that there are too many peo- 
ple, and that they ought (those who 
labour, at least) to be restrained 
from breeding so fast. But, as to 
the fact, I do not believe it. There 



CHAT. L] CLIJIATE, SEASONS, &C. •? 

1818. • . : 

Feb. 16. can be nothing in the shape of /)roo/"; 
for no actnal enumeration was ever 
taken till the year 1800. We know 
well, that London, Manchester, Bir- 
mingham, Bath, Portsmouth, Ply- 
mouth, and all Lancashire and York- 
shire, and some other counties, have 
got a vast increase of miserable be- 
ings huddled together. But, look 
at Devonshire, Somersetshire, Dor- 
setshire, "Wiltshire, Hampshire, and 
other counties. You will there see 
hundreds of thousands of acres of 
land, where the old marks of the 
plough are visible, but which have 
not been cultivated for, perhaps, 
half a century. You will there see 
places, that were once considerable 
towns and villages, now having, 
within their ancient limits, nothing 
but a few cottages, the Parsonage 
and a single Farm-house. It is a 
curious and a melancholy sight, 
where an ancient church, with its 
lofty spire or tower, the church suf- 
ficient to contain a thousand or two 
or three thousand of people conve- 
niently, now stands surrounded by 
a score or half a score of miserable 
F 2 



68 CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. [PART I. 

1818. 

Feb. 16. mud-houses, with floors of earth, 
and covered with thatch j and this 
sight strikes your eye in all parts of 
the five Western counties of Eng- 
land. Surely these cliurches were 
not built without the existence of a 
population somewhat proportionate 
to their size 1 Certainly not ; for 
the churches are of various sizes, 
and, we sometimes see them very 
small indeed. Let any man look at 
the sides of the hills in these coun- 
ties, and also in Hampshire, where 
dowjiSy or open lands, prevail. He 
will there see, not only that those 
hills were formerly cultivated ; but, 
that hanks, from distance to dis- 
tance, were made by the spade, in 
order to form little flats for the 
plough to go, without tumbling the 
earth down the hill ; so that the side 
of a hill looks, in some sort, like 
(he steps of a stairs. Was this done 
without handsy and without mouths 
to consume the grain raised on the 
sides of these hills ? The Funding 
and Manufacturing and Commercial 
and Taxing System has, by drawing 
wealth into great masses, drawn 



CHAP. T.] CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. 69 

1818. 
Feb. 16. men also into great masses. London, 
the manufacturing places, Bath, and 
other places of dissipation, have, 
indeed, wonderfully increased in 
population. Country seats. Parks, 
Pleasure-gardens, have, in like de- 
gree, increased in number and ex- 
tent. And, in just the same pro- 
portion has been the increase of 
Poor-houses, Mad-houses, and Jails. 
But, the people of England^ such as 
FORTESCUE described them, have 
been szvept away by the ruthless hand 
of the Aristocracy, who, making 
their approaches by slow degrees, 
have, at last, got into their grasp the 
substance of the whole country. 

17. Frost, not very hard. Went back 
to Harrisburgh. 

18. Same weather. Very fine. Warm 
in the middle of the day. 

19. Same weather. — Quitted Harris- 
burg, very much displeased; but, 
on this subject, I shall, if possible, 
keep silence, till next year, and 
until the People of Pennsylvania 
have had time to reflect j to clearly 
understand my affair ; and when they 
do understand it, I am not at all afraid 



70 CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. [PART I. 

1818. 

Feb, 19. of receiving justice at their hands, 
whether I am present or absent. 
Slept at Lancaster. One night more 
in this very excellent Tavern. 

20. Frost still. Arrived at Philadel- 
phia along with my friend HULME. 
They are roasting an ox on the 
Delaware. The fooleries of Eng- 
land are copied here, and every 
where in this country, with wonder- 
ful avidity ; and, I wish I could 
say, that some of the vices of our 
" higher orders,'* as they have the 
impudence to call themselves, were 
not also imitated. However, I look 
principally at the mass of farmers; 
the sensible and happy farmers of 
America. 

21. Thaiv and Rain. — The severe wea- 
ther is over for this year. 

22. Thaw and Rain. A solid day of 
rain. 

23. Little frost at night. Fine market. 
Fine meat of all sorts. As fat mut- 
ton as I ever saw. How mistaken 
Mr. Birkbeck is about American 
mutton ! 

S4. Same weather. Very fair days now. 



CHAP. I.] CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. 71 

1818. 

Feb. S5. Went to Bustleton with my old 
friend, Mr. John Morgan. 

26. Returned to Philadelphia. Roads 
very dirty and heavy. 

27. Complete thaio ; but it will be long 
before the frost be out of the ground. 

28. Same weather. Very warm. I hate 
this weather. Hot upon my back, 
and melting ice under my feet. The 
people (those who have been lazy) 
are chopping away with axes the 
ice, which has grown out of the 
snows and rains, before their doors, 
during the winter. The hogs (best 
of scavengers) are very busy in the 
streets, seeking out the bones and 
bits of meat, which have been flung 
out and frozen down amidst water 
and snow, during the two foregoing 
months. I mean including the pre- 
sent month. At New York (and, I 
think, at Philadelphia also) they 
have corporation laws to prevent 
hogs from being in the streets. For 
what reason^ I know not, except 
putrid meat be pleasant to the smell 
of the inhabitants. But, Corpora- 
tions are seldom the wisest of law- 



72 CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. [PART I. 

1818. 

Feb. 28. makers. It is argued, that, if there 
were no hogs in the streets, people 
would not throw out their orts of 
flesh and vegetables. Indeed ! What 
would they do with those orts, then ? 
Make their hired servants eat them ? 
The very proposition would leave 
them to cook and wash for them- 
selves. Where, then, are they to 
fling these effects of superabun- 
dance ? Just before I left New York 
for Philadelphia, I saw a sow very 
comfortably dining upon a full quar- 
ter part of what appeared to have 
been a fine leg of mutton. How 
many a family in England would, if 
within reach, have seized this meat 
from the sow ! And, are the tyrants, 
who have brought my industrious 
countrymen to that horrid state of 
misery, never to be called to account ? 
Are they always to carry it as they 
now do ? Every object almost, that 
strikes my view, sends my mind and 
heart back to England. In viewing 
the ease and happiness of this people, 
the contrast fills my soul with in- 
dignation, and makes it more and 
more the object of my life to assist 



CHAP. I.] CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. . 7S 

1818. 
Feb. 28. in the destruction of the diabolical 
usurpation, which has trampled on 
king as well as people. 
March 1. Rain. Dined with my old friend 
SevernE, an honest Norfolk man, 
who used to carry his milk about 
the streets, when I first knew him, 
but, who is now a man of consider- 
able property, and, like a wise man, 
lives in the same modest house 
where he formerly lived. Excellent 
roast beef and plum pudding. At 
his house I found an Englishman, 
and, from Botley too ! 1 had been 
told of such a man being in Phila- 
delphia, and that the man said, that 
he had heard of me, " heard of such 
a gentleman^ but did, not know much 
of him.'' This was odd ! I was 
desirous of seeing this man. Mr. 
Severne got him to his house. 
His name is Vere. I knew him the 
moment 1 saw him ; and, I won- 
dered zvhj/ it was that he knezv so 
little of me. I found, that he wanted^ 
work, and that he had been assisted 
by some society in Philadelphia. 
He said he was lame, and he might 
be a little, perhaps. / offered him 



74 CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. [PART I. 

1818 

March 1 . zvork at once. No : he wanted to 
have the care of a farm ! " Go," 
said I, " for shame, and ask some 
" farmers for work. You will find 
" it iinmediately^ and with good 
" wages. What should the people 
" in this country see in your face to 
" induce them to keep you in idle- 
" ness ? They did not send for you. 
" You are a young man, and you 
" come from a country of able 
" labourers. You may be rich if 
" you will work. This gentleman 
** who is now about to cram you 
" with roast beef and plum pudding 
** came to this city nearly as poor 
" as you are ; and, I first came to 
" this country in no better plight. 
** Work, and I wish you well -, be 
" idle, and you ought to starve." 
He told me, then, that he was a 
hoop-maker; and yet, observe, he 
wanted to have the care of a farm. 
N. B. If this l)ook should ever reach the 
hands of Mr. Richard Hinxman, 
my excellent good friend of Chilling, 
I beg him to show this note to Mr. 
Nicholas Freemantle of Botley. 
He will know well all about this 



CHAP, I.] CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. 75 

1818. 
March 1. Vere. Tell Mr. FreemaNTLE, that 
the Spaniels are beautiful, that Wood- 
cocks breed here in abundance; 
and tell him, above all, that I fre- 
quently think of him as a pattern 
of industry in business, of skill and 
perseverance and good humour as a 
, sportsman, and of honesty and kind- 
ness as a neighbour. Indeed, I have 
pleasure in thinking of all my Botley 
neighbours, except the Parson, who 
for their sakes, I w^ish, however, was 
my neighbour now ; for here he 
might pursue his calling very quietly. 

2. Open weatl^er. Went to Bustleton, 
after having seen Messrs. STEVENS 
and Pendrill, and advised them 
to forward to me affidavits of what 
they knew about Oliver, the spy 
of the Boroughmongers. 

3. Frost in the morning. Thaw in the 
day. 

4. Same weather in the night. Rain 
all day. 

5. Hard frost. Snow 3 inches deep. 

6. Hard frost. About as cold as a 
hard frost in January in England. 

7. Same weather. 

8. Thaw. Drv and fine. 



76 CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. [PART I. 

1818. 
March 9. Same weather. Took leave, I fear 
for ever, of my old and kind friend, 
James Paul. His brother and son 
promise to come and see me here. 
I have pledged myself to tra^isplant 
10 acres of Indian Corn ; and, if 
I write, in August, and say that 
it is good, Thomas Paul has pro- 
mised that he will come ; for, he 
thinks that the scheme is a mad 
one. 
10. Same weather. — Mr. Varee, a son- 
in-law of Mr. Ji\MES Paul, brought 
me yesterday to another son-in-law's, 
Mr. Ezra Townshend at Bibery. 
Here I am amongst the thick of the 
Quakers, whose houses and families 
pleased me so much formerly, and 
which pleasure is all now revived. 
Here all is ease, plenty, and cheer- 
fulness. These people are never 
giggling y and never in low-spirits. 
Their minds, like their dress, are 
simple and strong. Their kindness 
is shown more in acts than in words. 
Let others say what they will, I 
have uniformly found those whom I 
have intimately known of this sect, 
sincere and upright men; and I 



CHAP. I.] CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. 



77 



1818. 
March 10. 



verily believe, that all those charges 
of hypocrisy and craft, that we hear 
against Quakers, arise from a feeling 
of e7ivy ; envy inspired by seeing 
them possessed of such abundance 
of all those things, which are the 
fair fruits of care, industry, economy, 
sobriety, and order, and which are 
justly forbidden to the drunkard, the 
glutton, the prodigal, and the lazy. 
As the day of my coming to Mr. 
Townshend's had been announced 
beforehand, several of the young 
men, who were babies when I used 
to be there formerly, came to see 
" Billy Cobbett," of whom they 
had heard and read so much. When 
I saw them and heard them, " What 
" a contrast" said I to myself, 
" with the senseless, gaudy, up- 
" start, hectoring, insolent, and cruel 
" Yeomanry Cavalry in England, 
" who, while they grind their la- 
" bourers into the revolt of starva- 
" tion, gallantly sally forth with 
" their sabres, to chop them down 
" at the command of a Secretary of 
" State 3 and, who, the next mo- 
" ment, creep and fawn like spaniels 



78 CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. [PART 1. 

1818. 

March 10. '* before their Boroughmonger Land- 
*• lords!" At Mr. ToWNSH end's I 
saw a man, in his service, lately from 
Yorkshire, hut an Irishman by 
birth. He wished to have an oppor- 
tunity to see me. He had read 
many of my " little books." I shook 
him by the hand, told him he had 
now got a good house over his head 
and a kind employer, and advised 
him not to move for one year, and to 
save his wages during that year. 
11. Same open weather. — I am now at 
Trenton^ in New Jersey, waiting for 
something to carry me on towards 
New York. — Yesterday, Mr. Towns- 
HEND sent me on, under an escort 
of Quakers, to Mr. ANTHONY Tay- 
lor's. He was formerly a merchant 
in Philadelphia, and now lives in his 
very pretty country-house, on a very 
beautiful farm. He has some as 
fine and fat oxen as we generally see 
at Smithfield market in London. 
I think they will weigh sixty score 
each. Fine farm yard. Every thing 
belonging to the farm good, but 
what a neglectful gardener ! Saw 
some white thorns here (brought from 



CHAP. I.] CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. 79 

1818. 

March 11. England) which, if I had wanted 
any proof, would have clearly proved 
to me, that they would, with less 
care, make as good hedges here as 
they do at Farnham in Surrey. But, 
in another Part, I shall give full in- 
formation upon this head. Here my 
escort quitted me j but, luckily, Mr. 
Newbold, who lives about ten miles 
nearer Trenton than Mr. Taylor does, 
brought me on to his house. He 
is a much better gardener, or, ra- 
ther, to speak the truth, has suc- 
ceeded a better, whose example he 
has followed in part. But, his farm 
yard and buildings ! This was a 
sight indeed ! Forty head of horn- 
cattle in a yard, enclosed with a 
stone wall J and five hundred merino 
ewes, besides young Iambs, in the 
fmest, most spacious, best contrived, 
and most substantially built sheds I 
ever saw. The barn surpassed all 
that I had seen before. His house, 
(large, commodious, and handsome) 
stands about two hundred yards 
from the turnpike road, leading 
from Philadelphia to New York, 
and looks on and over the Delaware 



80 CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. [PARt I. 

1818. 

March 11. which runs parallel with the road, 
and has, surrounding it, and at the 
back of it, five hundred acres of 
land, level as a lawn, and two feet 
deep in loom, that never requires a 
water furrow. This was the finest 
sight that I ever saw as to farm- 
buildings and land. I forgot to ob- 
serve, that I saw in Mr. Taylor's 
service, another man recently ar- 
rived from Enojland. A Yorkshire 
man. He, too, wished to see me. 
He had got some of my " little 
** booksy*' which he had preserved, 
and brought out with him. Mr. 
Taylor was much pleased with him. 
An active, smart man ; and, if he 
follow my advice, to remain a year 
under one roof, and save his wages, 
he will, in a few years, be a rich man. 
These men must be brutes indeed not 
to be sensible of the great kindness and 
gentleness and liberality, with which 
they are treated. Mr. TayLOR came, 
this morning, to Mr. Newbold's, and 
brought me on to Trenton. I am at 
the stage-tavern, where I have just 
dined upon cold ham, cold veal, but- 
ter and cheese, and a peach-pyes 



CHAP I.] CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. SI' 

1818. 

March 11. nice clean room, well furnished, 
waiter clean and attentive, plenty of 
milk ; and charge, a quarter of a 
dollar ! I thought, that Mrs. JOSLIN 
at Princestown (as I went on to 
Philadelphia), Mrs. Benler at Har- 
risburgh, Mr. SlaymakER at Lan- 
caster, and Mrs. MCALLISTER, were 
low enough in all conscience; but, 
really, this charge of Mrs. ANDER- 
SON beats all. I had not the face 
to pay the waiter a quarter of a 
dollar ; but gave him half a dollar, 
and told him to keep the change. 
He is a black man. He thanked me. 
But, they never ask for any thing. 
But, my vehicle is come, and now 
I bid adieu to Trenton, which I 
should have liked better, if I had 
not seen so many young fellows 
lounging about the streets, and 
leaning against door-posts, with 
quids of tobacco in their mouths, 
or segars stuck between their lips, 
and with dirty hands and faces. Mr. 
Birkbeck's complaint, on this score, 
is perfectly just. 

Brimszvicky Nezo Jersey. Here I 
am, after a ride of about 30 miles, 

G 



82 CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. [PART I. 

1818. 

March 11. since two o'clock, in what is called 
a Jersey-waggon, through such mud 
as I never saw before. Up to the 
stock of the wheel j and yet a pair 
of very little horses have dragged 
us through it in the space of ^ve 
hours. The best horses and driver, 
and the worst roads I ever set my 
eyes on. This part of Jersey is a 
sad spectacle, after leaving the 
brightest of all the bright parts of 
Pennsylvania. My driver, who is a 
tavern-keeper himself, would have 
been a very pleasant companion, if 
he had not drunk so much spirits 
on the road. This is the girat mis- 
fortune of America ! As we were 
going up a hill very slowly, I could 
perceive him looking very hard at 
my cheek for some time. At last, 
he said : " I am wondering, Sir, to 
'* see you look so fresk and so youngs 
*' considering what you have gone 
" through in the world j" though I 
cannot imagine how he had learnt 
who I was. " I'll tell you," said 
I, " how I have contrived the thing. 
" I rise early, go to bed early, eat 
" sparingly, never drink any thing 



CHAP. I.] CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. S3 

1818. 

March II. " stronger than small beer, shave 
" once a day, and wash my hands 
" and face clean three times a day, 
" at the very least." He said, that 
was too much to think of doing. 
12. Warm and fair. Like an English 
Jij'st of May in point of warmth. I 
got to Elizabeth Town Point through 
beds of mud. Twenty minutes too 
late for the steam-boat. Have to 
wait here at the tavern till to-mor- 
row. Great mortification. Supped 
with a Connecticut farmer, who was 
taking on his daughter to Little 
York in Pennsylvania. The rest of 
his family he took on in the fall. 
He has migrated. His reasons were 
these: he has ^r^ sons, the eldest 
19 years of age, and several daugh- 
ters. Connecticut is thickly settled. 
He has not the means to buy farms 
for the sons there. He, therefore, 
goes and gets cheap land in Penn- 
sylvania; his sons will assist him to 
clear it; and, thus, they will have a 
farm each. To a man in such cir- 
cumstances, and " born with an 
" axe in one hand, aud a gun in the 
" other," the western countries are 
G 2 



84 CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. [PART L 

1818. 

March 12. desirable; but not to English far- 
mers, who have great skill in fine 
cultivation, and who can purchase 
near New York or Philadelphia. 
This Yankee (the inhabitants of 
Connecticut, Rhode Island, Massa- 
chusetts and New Hampshire, only, 
are called Yaiikees) was about the 
age of Sir Francis Burdett, and, 
if he had been dressed in the usual 
clothes of Sir Francis, would have 
passed for him. Features, hair, eyes, 
height, make, manner, look, hasty 
utterance at times, musical voice, 
frank deportment, pleasant smile. 
All the very fac-simile of him. I 
had some early York cabbage seed 
and some cauliflower seed in my 
pocket, which had been sent me 
from London, in a letter, and which 
had reached me at Harrisburgh. I 
could not help giving him a little of 
each. 
13. Same weather. A fine open day. 
Rather a cold May-day for Eng- 
land. Came to New York by the 
steam-boat. Over to this island by 
another, took a little light waggon, 
that zvhisked me home over roads as 



CHAP. I.] CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. 85 

1818. 

March 13. dry and as smooth as gravel walks 
in an English bishop's garden in 
the month of July. Great contrast 
with the bottomless muds of New 
Jersey ! As I came along, saw those 
fields of rye, which were so green 
in December, now ivhite. Not a 
single sprig of green on the face of 
the earth. Found that my man had 
ploughed ten acres of ground. The 
frost not quite clean out of the 
ground. It has penetrated (zvo feet 
eight inches. The weather here has 
been nearly about the same as in 
Pennsylvania J only less snow, and 
less rain, 

14. Open weather. Very fme. Not 
quite so warm. 

15. Same weather. Young chickens. I 
hear of no other in the neighbour- 
hood. This is the effect of my warm 

fowl-house ! The house has been sup- 
plied with eggs all the winter, with- 
out any interruption. I am told^ 
that this has been the case at no 
other house hereabouts. We have 
now an abundance of eggs. More 
than a large family can consume. 
We send spme to market. The 



86 CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. [PART I. 

1818. 

March 15. fowls, I find, have wanted no feed- 
ing except during the snow, or, in 
the very, very cold days, when they 
did not come out of their house all the 
day, A certain proof that they like 
the warmth. 
16. Little frost in the morning. Very 

fine day. 
17- Precisely same weather. 

18. Same weather. 

19. Same weather. 

20. Same weather. Opened several pits, 
in which I had preserved all sorts 
of garden plants and roots, and 
apples. Valuable experiments. As 
useful in England as here, though 
not so absolutely necessary. I shall 
communicate these in another part 
of my work, under the head of 
gardening. 

21. Same weather. The day like a fine 
May-day in England. I am writ- 
ing without fire, and in my waist- 
coat without coat. 

22. Rain all last night, and all this 
day. 

23. Mild and fine. A sow had a litter 
of pigs in the leaves under the trees. 
Judge of the weather by this. The 



CHAP. I.] CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. 87 

1818. 

March 23. wind blows cold ; but, she has 
drawn together great heaps of leaves, 
and protects her young ones with 
surprising sagacity and exemplary 
care and fondness. 

24. Same weather. 

25. Still mild and fair. 

26. Very cold wind. We try to get 
the sow and pigs into the buildings. 
But the pigs do not follow, and we 
cannot, with all our temptations of 
corn and all our caresses, get the 
sow to move without them by her 
side. She must remain 'till they 
choose to travel. How does nature, 
through the conduct of this animal, 
reproach those mothers, who cast 
off their new-born infants to depend 
on a hireling's breast ! Let every 
young man, before he marry, read, 
upon this subject, the pretty poem 
of Mr. ROSCOE, called "the NURSEj" 
and, let him also read, on the same 
subject, the eloquent, beautiful, and 
soul-affecting passage, in Rousseau's 
« Emikr 

27. Fine warm day. Then high wind, 
rain, snow, and hard frost before 
morning. 



88 CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. [PART I. 

1818. 

March 28. Hard frost. Snow 3 inches deep. 

29. Frost in the night ;. but, all thawed 
in the day, and very warm. 

30. Frost in night. Fine warm day. 

31. Fine warm day. — As the winter is 
now gone, let us take a look back 
at its inconveiiiences compared with 
those of an English Winter. — We 
have had three months of it ; for, if 
we had a few sharp days in De- 
cember, we have had many very fine 
and without jire in March. In 
England winter really begins in No- 
vember, and does not end 'till Mid- 
March. Here we have ^ reader co/^i 
there four times as much wet. I 
have had my great coat on only twice, 
except when sitting in a stagey tra- 
velling. I have had gloves on no 
oftener; for, I do not, like the Clerks 
of the Houses of Boroughmongers, 
write in gloves. I seldom meet a 
waggoner with gloves or great coat 
on. It is generally so dry. This 
is the great friend of man and beast. 
Last summer / ivrote home for nails 
to nail my shoes for winter. I could 
find none here. What a foolish 
people, not to have shoe-nails! I 



CHAP. I.] CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. 89 

1818. 

March 31. forgot, that it was likely, that the 
absence of shoe-nails argued an ab- 
sence of the want of them. The 
nails are not come ; and I have not 
wanted them. There is no dirt, 
except for about teii days at the 
bi^eaking up of the frost. The dress 
of a labourer does not cost half so 
much as in England. This dryness 
is singularly favourable to all ani- 
mals. They are hurt far less by 
dry cold, than by warm drip, drip, 
drip, as it is in England. — There 
has been nothing green in the gar- 
den, that is to say, above ground, 
since December j but, we have had, 
all winter, and have now, white 
cabbages, green savoys, parsnips, 
carrots, beets, young onions, radishes, 
zvhite turnips, Szvedish turnips, and 
potatoes; and all these in abun- 
dance (except radishes, which were 
a few to try), and always at hand 
at a minute's warning. The modes 
of preserving will be given in ano- 
ther part of the work. What can 
any body want more than these 
things in the garden way ? However 



90 CLIMATE, SEASONS, &c. [PART I. 

1818. 

March 31. it would be very easy to add to the 
catalogue. Apples, quinces, cher- 
ries, currants, peaches, dried in the 
summery and excellent for tarts and 
pies. Apples in their raw state, as 
many as we please. My own stock 
being gone, I have trucked turnips 
for apples j and shall thus have them, 
if I please, 'till apples come again 
on the trees. I give two bushels 
and a half of Swedish turnips for 
one of apples; and, mind, this is on 
the last day of March. — I have here 
sidiXed facts y whereby to judge of the 
winter; and I leave the English 
reader to judge for himself, I my- 
self decidedly preferring the Ame- 
rican winter. 
April 1. Very fine and warm. 

2. Same weather. 

3. Same weather. 

4. Rain all day. 

5. Rain all day. Our cistern and pool 
full. 

6. Warm, but no sun. — Turkeys begin 
to lav. 

7. Same weather. My first spring 
operations in gardening are now go- 



CHAP. I,] CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. 91 

1818. 

April 7. ing on ; but I must reserve an ac- 
- count of them for another Part of 

my work. 

8. Warm and fair. 

9. Rain and rather cold. 

10. Fair but cold. It rained but yes- 
terday, and we are to-day, feeding 
sheep and lambs with grain of corn, 
and with oats, upon the ground in 
the orchard. Judge, then, of the 
cleanness and convenience of this 
soil I 

11. Fine and warm. 

12. Warm and fair. 

13. Warm and fair. 

14. Drying wind and miserably cold. 
Fires again in day-time, which I 
have not had for some dayiS past. 

15. Warm, like a fine May-day in Eng- 
land. We are planting out selected 
roots for seed. 

16. Rain all last night. — Warm. Very 
fine indeed. 

17. Fine warm day. Heavy thunder 
and rain at night. The Martins 
(not swallows) are come into the 
barn and are looking out scites for 

f iT.Vf the habitations of their future young 

ones. 



92 CLIMATEj SEASONS, &C. [PART I. 

1818. 

April. 18. Cold and raw. Damp, too, which 
is extremely rare. The worst day 
1 have yet seen during the year. 
Stops the grass, stops the swelling 
of the buds. The young chickens 
hardly peep out from under the 
wings of the hens. The lambs don't 
play, but stand knit up. The pigs 
growl and squeak ; and the birds 
are gone away to the woods again. 

19. Same weather with an Easterly 
wind. Just such a wind as that, 
which, in March, brushes round the 
corners of the streets of London, 
and makes the old, muffled-up de- 
bauchees hurry home with aching 
joints. Some hail to day. 

20. Same weather. Just the weather 
to give drunkards the " blue de- 
vils." 

21. Frost this morning. Ice as thick 
as a dollar. — Snow three times. 
Once to cover the ground. Went 
off again directly. 

^2. Frost and ice in the morning, A 
very fine day, but not warm. Dan- 
delions blow. 
S3. Sharp white frost in morning. Warm 
and fine day. 



CHAP. I.] CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. 9$ 

1818. 

April 24. Warm night, warm and fair day. 
And here I close my Journal ; for, I 
am in haste to get my manuscript 
away 5 and there now wants only 
ten days to complete the year. — I re- 
sume, now, the Numbering of my Pa- 
ragraphs, having begun my Journal 
at the close of Paragraph No. 20. 
21. Let us, now, take a survey, or rather 
glance, at the face, which nature now wears. 
The grass begins to afford a good deal for sheep 
and for my grazing English pigs, and the cows 
and oxen get a little food from it. The pears, 
apples, and other fruit trees, have not made 
much progress in the swelling or bursting of 
their buds. The buds of the weeping-willow 
have hursted (for, in spite of that conceited ass, 
Mr. James Perry, to hirst is a regidar verb, 
and vulgar pedants only make it irregular), and 
those of a Lilac, in a warm place, are almost 
hursted, which is a great deal better than to say, 
" almost burst." Oh, the coxcomb ! As if an 
absolute pedagogue like him could injure me 
by his criticisms ! And, as if an error like this, 
even if it had been one, could have any thing to 
do with my capacity for developing principles, 
and for simplifying things, which, in their nature, 
are of great complexity ! — The oaks, which, in 
England, have now their sap in fidl floiv, are 



94 CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. [PART I. 

here quite unmoved as yet. In the gardens in 
general there is notJmig green, while, in England, 
they have broccoli to eat, early cabbages planted 
out, coleworts to eat, peas four or five inches 
high. Yet, we shall have green peas and loaved 
cabbages as soon as they will. We have sprouts 
from the cabbage stems preserved under cover ; 
the Swedish turnip is giving me greens from 
bulbs planted out in March ; and I have some 
broccoli too, just coming on for use. How I 
have got this broccoli I must explain in my 
Gardener's Guide; for write one I must. I 
never can leave this country without an at- 
tempt to make every farmer a gardener. — In 
the meat way, we have beef, mutton, bacon, 
fowls, a calf to kill in a fortnight's time, suck- 
ing pigs when we choose, lamb nearly fit to 
kill ; and all of our own breeding, or our own 
feeding. We kill an ox, send three quarters 
and the hide to market and keep one quarter. 
Then a sheep, which we use in the same way. 
The bacon is always ready. Some fowls always 
fatting. Young ducks are just coming out to 
meet the green peas. Chickens (the earliest) 
as big as American Partridges (misnamed quails), 
and ready for the asparagus, which is just com- 
ing out of the ground. Eggs at all times more 
than we can consume. And, if there be any 
one, who wants better fare than this, let the 
grumbling glutton come to that poverty, which 



CHAP. I.] CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. 95 

Solomon has said shall be his lot. And, the 
great thing of all, is, that here, every man, even 
every labourer, may live as well as this, if he 
will be sober and industrious. 

22. There are tzvo things, which I have not 
yet mentioned, and which are almost wholly 
wanting here, while they are so amply enjoyed 
in England. The singi?ig birds and the fiowers. 
Here are many birds in summer, and some of 
very beautiful plumage. There are some wild 
flowers, and some English flowers in the best 
gardens. But, generally speaking, they are 
birds without song, and flowers without smell. 
The linnet (more than a thousand of which I 
have heard warbling upon one scrubbed oak 
on the sand hills in Surrey), the sky-lark, the 
goldfinch, the wood-lark, the nightingale, the bull- 
finch, the black-bird, the thrush, and all the 
rest of the singing tribe are wanting in these 
beautiful woods and orchards of garlands. — 
When these latter have dropped their bloom, alt 
is gone in the flowery way. No shepherd's rose, 
no honey-suckle, none of that endless variety of 
beauties that decorate the hedges and the mea- 
dows in England. No daisies, no primroses, no 
cowslips, no blue- bells, no daffodils, which, as if 
it were not enough for them to charm the sight 
and the smell, must have names, too, to delight 
the ear. All these are wanting in America. 
Here are, indeed, birds, which bear the name of 



9fl CLIMATE, SEASONS, &C. [PART I. 

robin, blackbird, thrush, and goldfinch; but, 
alas ! the thing at Westminster has, in like 
manner, the name of parliament, and speaks the 
voice of the people, whom it pretends to repre- 
sent, in much about the same degree that the 
black-bird here speaks the voice of its name- 
sake in England. 

23. Of healthy I have not yet spoken, and, 
though it will be a subject of remark in another 
part of my work, it is a matter of too deep inte- 
rest to be wholly passed over here. In the first 
place, as to viyself, I have always had excellent 
health ; but, during a year, in England, 1 used 
to have a cold or two ; a trifling sore throat ; or 
something in that wa3^ Here, I have neither, 
though I was more than two months of the 
winter travelling about, and sleeping in different 
beds. My family have been more healthy than 
in England, though, indeed, there has seldom 
been any serious illness in it. We have had 
but one visit from any Doctor. Thus much, for 
the present, on this subject. I said, in the 
second Register I sent home, that this climate 
was not so good as that of England. Experi- 
ence, observation, a careful attention to real 
facts, have convinced me that it is, upon the 
wholcy a better climate; though I tremble lest 
the tools of the Boroughmongers should cite 
this as a new and most flagrant instance of inco?i' 
sistency. England is my country, and to Eng- 



CHAP. I.] CLIMATE, SEASONS, &c. 97 

land I shall return. I like it best, and shall 
always like it best; but, then, in the word Eng- 
land, many things are included besides climate 
and soil and seasons, and eating and drinking. 

24. In the Second Part of this work, which 
will follow the first Part in the course of two 
months, J shall take particular pains to detail all 
that is within my knowledge, which I think 
likely to be useful to persons who intend coming 
to this country from England. I shall take 
every particular of the expence of supporting a 
family, and show what are the means to be ob- 
tained for that purpose, and how they are to be 
obtained. My intending to return to England 
ought to deter no one from coming hither j be- 
cause, I was resolved, if I had life, to return, and 
I expressed that resolution before I came away. 
But if there are good and virtuous men, who 
can do no good there, and who, by coming 
hither can withdraw the fruits of their honest 
labour from the grasp of the Borough tyrants, I 
am bound, if I speak of this country at all, to 
tell them the real truth ; and this, as far as I 
have gone, 1 have now done. 



H 



98 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [PART I. 



CHAP. II. 

RUTA BAGA. 

Culture, Mode of preserving, and uses of 
THE RuTA Baga, sometimes CALLED the Rus- 
sia, AND SOMETIMES THE SWEDISH TURNIP. 

Description of the Plant. 

25. It is my intention, as notified in the public 
papers, to put into print an account of all the 
experiments, which I have made, and shall 
make in Farming and in Gardening upon this 
Island. I, several years ago, long before tyranny 
showed its present horrid front in England, 
formed the design of sending out, to be pub- 
lished in this country, a treatise on the culti- 
vation of the root and green crops, as cattle, 
sheep, and hog food. This design was sug- 
gested by the reading of the following passage 
in Mr. Chancellor Livingston's Essay on 
Sheep, which I received in 1812. After having 
stated the most proper means to be employed 



CHAP. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 9^ 

m order to keep sheep and Iambs during the 
winter months, he adds: " Having brought our 
" flocks through the winter, we come now to the 
" most critical season, that is, the latter end of 
" March and the month of April. At this time 
" the ground being bare, the sheep will refuse 
" to eat their hay, while the scanty picking of 
" grass, and its purgative quality, will disable 
" them from taking the nourishment that is ne- 
" cessary to keep them up. If they fall away 
" their wool will be injured, and the growth of 
" their lambs will be stopped, and even many of 
** the old sheep will be carried off by the 
" dysentery. To provide food for this season is 
" very difficult. Turnips and Cabbages will roty 
" and bran they will not eat, after having been 
" fed on it all the winter. Potatoes, however, 
" and the Swedish Turnip, called Ruta Baga, 
*' may be usefully applied at this time, and so, 
" I think, might Parsnips and Carrots. But, as 
" few of us are in the habit of cultivating these 
" plants to the extent which is necessary for the 
" support of a large flock, we must seek resources 
" more within our reach.'* And then the Chan- 
cellor proceeds to recommend the leaving the 
second growth of clover uncut, in order to pro- 
duce early shoots from sheltered buds for the 
sheep to eat until the coming of the natural 
grass and the general pasturage. 

H 2 



100 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [PART 1. 

26. I was much surprised at read in or this 
passage; having observed, when Hived in Penn- 
sylvania, how prodigiously the root crops of 
every kind flourished and succeeded with only 
common skill and carej and, in 1815, having 
by that time had many crops of Ruta Baga ex- 
ceeding thirty totis, or, about o?ie thousand five 
hundred heaped bushels to the acre, at Botley, I 
formed the design of sending out to America a 
treatise on the culture and uses of that root, 
which, I was perfectly well convinced, could be 
raised with more ease here than in England, and, 
that it might be easily preserved during the 
whole year, if necessary, I had proved in many 
cases. 

27. If Mr. Chancellor Livingston, whose 
public-spirit is manifested fully in his excellent 
little work, which he modestly calls an Essay, 
could see my ewes and lambs, and hogs and cat- 
tle, at this " critical season*' (I write on the 27th 
of March), with more Ruta Baga at their com- 
mand than they have mouths to employ on it ; 
if he could see me, who am on a poor exhausted 
piece of land, and who found it covered with 
weeds and brambles in the month of June last, 
who found no manure, and who have brought 
none; if he could see me overstocked, not with 
mouths, but with food, owing to a little care in 
the cultivation of this invaluable root, he would. 



CHAP. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 101 

I am sure, have reason to be convinced, that, if 
any farmer in the United States is in Vi^ant of 
food at this pinching season of the year, the 
fault is neither in the soil nor in the climate. 

28. It is, therefore, of my mode of cultivating 
this root on this Island that I mean, at present, 
to treat J to which matter I shall add, in another 
Part of my work, an account of my experi- 
ments as to the Mangel Wurzel, or SCARCITY 
ROOT ; though, as will be seen, I deem that root, 
except in particular cases, of very inferior im- 
portance. The parsnip, the carrot, the cabbage, 
are all excellent in their kind and in their uses ; 
but, as to these, I have not yet made, upon a 
scale sufficiently large here, such experiments as 
would warrant me in speaking with any degree 
of confidence. Of these, and other matters, I 
propose to treat in a future Part, which I shall, 
probably, publish towards the latter end of this 
present year. 

29. The Ruta Baga is a sort of turnip well 
known in the State of New York, where, under 
the name of Russia turnip, it is used for the 
Table from February to July. But, as it may 
be more of a stranger in other parts of the coun- 
try, it seems necessary to give it enough of de- 
scription to enable every reader to distinguish 
it from every other sort of turnip. 

30. The leaf of every other sort of turnip is ^f 
a yelloxvish green, while the leaf of the Ruta 



102 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [PART T. 

Baga is of a hlueish green, like the green of peas, 
when of nearly their full size, or like the green 
of a young and thrifty early Yorkshire cabbage. 
Hence it is, I suppose, that some persons have 
called it the Cabbage-turnip. But the charac- 
teristics the most decidedly distinctive are these : 
that the outside of the bulb of the Ruta Baga is 
of a greenish hue, mixed, towards the top, with 
a colour bordering on a red; and, that the inside 
of the bulb, if the sort be true and pure, is of a 
deep yellow^ nearly as deep as that of gold. 

Mode of saving and of preserving the Seed. 

31. This is rather a nice business, and should 
be, by no means, executed in a negligent man- 
ner. For, on the well attending to this, much 
of the seed depends: and, it is quite surprizing 
how great losses are, in the end, frequently 
sustained by the saving in this part of the busi- 
ness, of an hour's labour or attention. I one 
year, lost more than half of what would have 
been an immense crop, by a mere piece of negli- 
gence in my bailiff as to the seed ; and I caused 
a similar loss to a gentleman in Berkshire, who 
had his seed out of the same parcel that mine was 
taken from, and who had sent many miles for it, 
in order to have the best in the world. 

32. The Ruta Baga is apt to degenerate, if the 
seed be not saved with care. We, in England, 



CHAP. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 103 

select the plants to be saved for seed. We exa- 
mine well to find out those that run least into 
neck and green. We reject all such as approach 
at all towards a whitish colour, or which are even 
of a greenish colour toxvards the 7ieck, where there 
ought to be a little reddish cast. 

33. Having selected the plants with great 
care, we take them up out of the place where 
they have grown, and plant them in a plot 
distant from every thing of the turnip or 
cabbage kind which is to bear seed. In this 
Island, I am now, at this time, planting mine for 
seed (27th March), taking all our English pre- 
cautions. It is probable, that they would do 
very well, if taken out of a heap to be trans- 
planted, if well selected ; but, lest this should , 
not do well, I have kept my selected plants all 
the winter in the ground in my garden, well 
covered with corn-stalks and leaves from the 
trees j and, indeed, this is so very little a matter 
to do, that it would be monstrous to suppose, 
that any farmer would neglect it on account of 
the labour and trouble j especially when we con- 
sider, that the seed of two or three turnips is more 
than sufficient to sow an acre of land. I, on 
one occasion, planted twenty turnips for seed, 
and the produce, besides what the little birds 
took as their share for having kept down the 
caterpillars, was twenty-two and a half pounds of 
dean seed. 



104 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [PART I. 

34. The sun is so ardent and the weather so 
fair here, compared with the drippy and chilly 
climate of England, while the birds here never 
touch this sort of seed, that a small plot of 
ground would, if well managed, produce a great 
quantity of seed. Whether it would degenerate 
is a matter that I have not yet ascertained ; but 
which I am about to ascertain this year. 

35. That all these precautions of selecting the 
plants and transplanting them are necessary, I 
know by experience. I, on one occasion, had 
sown all my own seed, and the plants had been 
carried off by the Jly^ of which I shall have to 
speak presently. I sent to a person who had 
raised some seed, which I afterwards found to 
have come from turnips, left promiscuously to 
go to seed in a part of a field where they had 
been sown. The consequence was, that a good 
third part of my crop had no bidbs ; but con- 
sisted of a sort of rape^ all leaves, and stalks 
growing very high. While even the rest of the 
crop bore no resemblance, either in point of size 
or of quality, to turnips, in the same field, from 
seed saved in a proper manner, though this latter 
was sown at a later period. 

36. As to the preserving of the seed, it is an 
invariable rule applicable to all seeds, that seed, 
kept in the pod to the very time of sowing, will 
vegetate more quickly and more vigorously than 



CHAP. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 105 

seed which has been some time threshed out. 
But, turnip seed will do very well, if threshed 
out as soon as ripe, and kept in a dry place y and 
not too much exposed to the air. A bag, hung 
up in a dry room, is the depository that I use. 
But, before being threshed out, the seed should 
be quite ripe, and, if cut off, or pulled up, which 
latter is the best way, before the pods are quite 
dead, the whole should be suffered to lie in the 
sun till the pods are perfectly dead, in order 
that the seed may imbibe its full nourishment, 
and come to complete perfection ; otherwise the 
seed will zvithery much of it will not grow at all, 
and that which does grow will produce plants 
inferior to those proceeding from well-ripened 
seed. 

Time of Sowing. 

3*7. Our time of sozving in England is from 
the first to the twentieth of June, though some 
persons sow in May, which is still better. 
This was one of the matters of the most deep 
interest with me, when I came to Hyde Park. 
I could not begin before the month of June j for 
I had no ground ready. But, then, I began 
with great care, on the second of June, sowing, 
in small plots, once every week, till the 30th of 
July. In every case the seed took well and the 
plants grew well; but, having looked at the 



106 RUTA BAGA culture. [PART I. 

growth of the plots first sown, and calculated 
upon the probable advancement of them, I fixed 
upon the 26^A of June for the sowing of my prin- 
cipal crop. 

38. I was particularly anxious to know, whe- 
ther this country were cursed with the Turnip 
Fli/y which is so destructive in England. It is 
a little insect about the size of a bed jiea^ and 
jumps away from all approaches exactly like 
that insect. It abounds sometimes, in quan- 
tities, so great as to eat up all the young plants, 
on hundreds and thousands of acres, in a single 
day. It makes its attack when the plants are in 
the seed-leaf ; and, it is so very generally preva- 
lent, that it is always an even chance, at least, 
that every field that is sown will be thus wholly 
destroyed. There is no remedy but that of 
ploughing and sowing again; and this is fre- 
quently repeated three timeSy and even then 
there is no crop. Volumes upon volumes have 
been written on the means of preventing, or mi- 
tigating, this calamity ; but nothing effectual 
has ever been discovered ; and, at last, the only 
means of insuring a crop of Ruta Baga in Eng- 
land, is, to raise the plants in small plots, sown 
at many different times, in the same manner as 
cabbages are sown, and, like cabbages, trans- 
plant them; of which mode of culture I shall 
speak by and by. It is very singular, that a 



CHAP. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 107 

field sown one day^ wholly escapes, while a field 
sown the next day^ is wholly destroyed. Nay, a 
part of the same field, sown in the morning, will 
sometimes escape, while the part, sown in the 
afternoon, will be destroyed j and, sometimes 
the afternoon sowing is the part that is spared. 
To find a remedy for this evil has posed all the 
heads of all the naturalists and chemists of Eng- 
land. As an evil, the smut in wheat ; the wire- 
worm ; the grubs above-ground and under- 
ground ; the caterpillars, green and black j the 
slug, red, black, and grey : though each a great 
tormentor, are nothing. Against all these there 
is some remedy, though expensive and plaguing; 
or, at any rate, their ravages are comparatively 
slow, and their causes are known. But, the Tur- 
nip Fly is the English farmer's evil genius. To 
discover a remedy for, or the cause of, this 
plague, has been the object of inquiries, experi- 
ments, analyses, innumerable. Premium upon 
premium offered, has only produced pretended 
remedies, which have led to disappointment and 
mortification ; and, I have no hesitation to say, 
that, if any man could find out a real remedy, 
and could communicate the means of cure, while 
he kept the nature of the means a secret, he 
would be much richer than he who should dis- 
cover the longitude; for about Jifty thousand 
farmers would very cheerfully pay him ten guineas 
a year each. 



108 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [PART I. 

39. The reader will easily judge, then, of my 
anxiety to know, whether this mortal enemy of 
the farmer existed in Long Island. This was 
the first question which I put to every one of 
my neighbours, and I augured good from their 
not appearing to understand what I meant. 
However, as my little plots of turnips came up 
successively, I watched them as our farmers do 
their fields in England. To my infinite satis- 
faction, I found that my alarms had been ground- 
less. This circumstance, besides others that I 
have to mention by and by, gives to the stock- 
farmer in America so great an advantage over 
the farmer in England, or in any part of the 
middle and northern parts of Europe, that it is 
truly wonderful that the culture of this root has 
not, long ago, become general in this country. 

40. The time of sowing, then, may be, as cir- 
cumstances may require, from the %5th of June, 
to about the lOth of July, as the result of my 
experiments will now show. The plants sown 
during the first fifteen days of June grew well, 
and attained great size and weight ; but, though 
they did not actually go off to seed, they were 
very little short of so doing. They rose into 
large and long necks, and sent out sprouts from 
the upper part of the bulb ; and, then, the bulb 
itself (which is the thing sought after) swelled no 
more. The substance of the bulb became hard 
and stringy i and the turnips, upon the whole. 



CHAP. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 109 

were smaller and of greatly inferior quality, com- 
pared with those, which were sown at the proper 
time. 

41. The turnips sown between the 15th and 
26th of June, had all these appearances and 
quality, only in a less degree. But, those which 
were sown on the 26th of June, were perfect in 
shape, size, and quality j and, though I have 
grown them larger in England, it was not done 
without more manure upon half an acre than I 
scratched together to put upon seven acres at 
Hyde Park ; but of this I shall speak more 
particularly when I come to the quantity of 
crop. 

42. The sowings which were made after the 
26th of June, and before the 10th of July, did 
very well ; and, one particular sowing on the 
9th of July, on 12 rods, or perches, of ground, 
sixteen and a half feet to the rod, yielded 62 
bushels, leaves and roots cut off, which is after 
the rate of 992 bushels to an acre. But this 
sowing was on ground extremely well prepared 
and sufficiently manured with ashes from burnt 
earth ; a mode of raising manure of which 1 shall 
fully treat in a future chapter. 

43. Though this crop was so large, sown on 
the 9th of July, I would by no means recom- 
mend any farmer, who can sow sooner, to de- 
fer the business to that time; for, I am of opi- 



no RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [PART I. 

nion, with the old folk in the West of England, 
that God is almost always on the side of early 
farmers. Besides, one delay too often produces 
another delay ; and he who puts off to the 9th 
may put off to the 19th. 

44. The crops, in small plots, which I sowed 
after the 9th of July to the 30th of that month, 
grew very well ; but they regularly succeeded 
each other in diminution of size j and, which is 
a great matter, the cold weather overtook them 
before they were ripe ; and ripeness is full as ne- 
cessary in the case of roots as in the case of ap- 
ples or of peaches. 

^ualily and Preparation of the Seed. 

45. As a fine, rich, loose garden mould, of 
great depth, and having a porous stratum under 
it, is best for every thing that vegetates, except 
plants that live best in water, so it is best for 
the lluta Baga. But, I know of no soil in the 
United States, in which this root may not be 
cultivated with the greatest facility. A pure 
sa?id, or a very stiff clay^ would not do well, 
certainly 3 but I have never seen any of either 
in America. The soil that I cultivate is poor 
almost proverbially ; but, what it really is, is 
this: it is a light loam, approaching towards 
the sandy. It is of a brownish colour about 
eight inches deep ; then becomes more of a red 



CHAP. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. Ill 

for about another eight inches ; and then comes 
a mixture of yellowish sand and of pebbles, 
which continues down to the depth of many 
feet. 

46. So much for the nature of the land. As 
to its staie^ it was that of as complete poverty as 
can well be imagined. My main crop of Ruta 
Baga was sown upon two different pieces. One, 
of about three acres, had borne, in 1816, some 
Indian corn stalksy together with immense quan- 
tities of brambles, grass, and weeds, of all de- 
scriptions. The other, of about four acres, had, 
when I took to it, rye growing on it ; but, this rye 
was so poor, that my neighbour assured me, that 
it could produce nothing, and he advised me to 
let the cattle and sheep take it for their trouble 
of walking over the ground, which advice I rea- 
dily followed ; but, when he heard me say, that 
I intended to sow Russia turnips on the same 
ground, he very kindly told me his opinion of 
the matter, which was, that I should certainly 
throw my labour wholly away. 

47. With these two pieces of ground I went 
to work early in June. I ploughed them very 
shaltozVy thinking to drag the grassy clods up 
with the harrow, to put them in heaps and burn 
them, in which case I would (barring the Jly fj, 
have pledged my life for a crop of Ruta Baga. 
It adversely happened to rain, when my clodg 



112 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [PART L 

should have been burnt, and the furrows were so 
solidly fixed down by the rain, that I could not 
tear them up with the harrow; and, besides, my 
time of sowing came on apace. Thus situated, 
and having no faith in what I was told about 
the dangers of deep ploughing, I fixed four oxen 
to a strong plough, and turned up soil that had 
not seen the sun for many, many long years. 
Another soaking rain came very soon after, and 
went, at once, to the bottom of my ploughing, 
instead of being carried away instantly by eva- 
poration. I then harrowed the ground down 
level, in order to keep it moist as long as I could ; 
for the sun now began to be the thing most 
dreaded. 

48. In the meanwhile I was preparing my 
manure. There was nothing of the kind visible 
upon the place. But, I had the good luck to 
follow a person, who appears not to have known 
much of the use of brooms. By means of 
sweeping and raking and scratching in and 
round the house, the barn, the stables, the hen- 
roost, and the court and yard, I got together 
^oni four hundred bushels of not very bad turnip 
manure. This was not quite 60 bushels to an 
acre for my seven acres; or, three gallons to 
every square rod. 

49. However, though I made use of these 
beggarly means, I would not be understood to 



CHAP. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 113 

recommend the use of such means to others. 
On the contrary, I should have preferred good 
and clean land, and plenty of manure ; Uiit of 
this I shall speak again, when I have given an 
account of the manner of sowing and trans- 
planting. 

Manner of Solving. 

50. Thus fitted out with land and manure, I 
set to the work of sowing, which was performed, 
with the help of two ploughs and two pair of 
oxen, on the 25th, 26th, and 27th of June. The 
ploughmen put the ground up into little ridges 
having two furrows on each side of the ridge : so 
that every ridge consisted of four furrows, or 
turnings over of the plough ; and the tops of 
the ridges were ahoui four feet from each other; 
and, as the ploughing was performed to a great 
depth, there was, of course, a very deep gutter 
between every two ridges. 

51. I took care to have the manure placed 
so as to be under the middle of each ridge; 
that is to say, just beneath where my seed was 
to come. I had but a very small quantity of 
seed as well as of manure. This seed I had, 
however, brought from home, where it was 
raised by a neighbour, on whom I could rely, 
and I had no faith in any other. So that I 
was compelled to bestow it on the ridges with 
a very parsimonious hand ; not having, I be- 

I 



114 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [PART I. 

lieve, more than four pounds to sow on the 
seven acres. It was sown principally in this 
manner; a man went along by the side of each 
ridge, and put down two or three seeds in places 
at about teii inches from each other, just draw- 
ing a little earth over, and pressing it on the 
seedy in order to make it vegetate quickly before 
the earth became too dry. This is always a 
good thing to be done, and especially in dry 
weather, and under a hot sun. Seeds are very 
small things J and though, when we see them 
covered over with earth, we conclude that the 
earth must touch them closely y we should re- 
member, that a very small cavity is sufficient to 
keep them untouched nearly all round, in which 
case, under a hot sun, and near the surface, 
they are sure to perish, or, at least, to lie long, 
and until rain come, before they start. 

52. I remember a remarkable instance of this 
in saving some turnips to transplant at Botley. 
The whole of a piece of ground was sown 
broad-cast. My gardener had been told to sow 
in hedsy that we might go in to weed the plants ; 
and, having forgotten this till after sowing, he 
clapped down his line, and divided the plot into 
beds by treading very hard a little path at the 
distance of every four feet. The weather was 
very dry and the wind very keen. It continued 
so for three weeks -, and, at the end of that time, 
we had scarcely a turnip in the beds, where the 



CHAP, ir.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 1 15 

ground had been left raked over; but, in the 
paths we had an abundance, which grew to be 
very fine, and which, when transplanted, made 
part of a field which bore thirty-three tons to 
the acre, and which, as a whole field, was the 
finest I ever saw in my life. 

53. I cannot help endeavouring to press this 
fact upon the reader. Squeezing down the 
earth makes it touch the seed in all its parts, 
and then it will soon vegetate. It is for this 
reason, that barley and oat fields should be 
rolled, if the weather be dry ; and, indeed, that 
all seeds should be pressed down, if the state of 
the earth will admit of it. 

54. This mode of sowing is neither tedious 
nor expensive^. Two men sowed the whole of my 
seven acres in the three days, which, when we 
consider the value of the crop, and the saving in 
the after-culture, is really not worth mentioning. 
I do not think, that any sowing by drill is so 
good, or, in the end, so cheap as this. Drills 
miss very often in the sowings of such small 
seeds. However, the thing may be done by 
hand in a less precise manner. One man would 
have sown the seven acres in a day, by just 
scattering the seeds along on the top of the 
ridge, where they might have been buried with 
the rake, and pressed down by a spade or 
shovel or some other flat instrument. A slight 
roller to take two ridges at once, the horse 

I 2 



116 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [PART I- 

walking in the gutter between, is what I used 
to make use of when I sowed on ridges ; and, 
who can want such a roller in America, as long 
as he has an axe and an auger in his house? 
Indeed, this whole matter is such a trifle, when 
compared with the importance of the object, 
that it is not to be believed, that any man will 
think it worth the smallest notice as counted 
amongst the means of obtaining that object. 

55. Broad cast sowing will, however, pro- 
bably, be, in most cases, preferred ; and, this 
mode of sowing is pretty well understood from 
general experience. What is required here, is, 
that the ground be well ploughed, finely har- 
rowed, and the seeds thinly and evenly sown 
over it, to the amount of about two pounds of 
seed to an acre ! but, then, if the weather be 
dry, the seed should, by all means be rolled 
down. When I have spoken of the after-cid- 
turCy I shall compare the two methods of sow- 
ing, the ridge and the broad-cast^ in order that 
the reader may be the better able to say, which 
of the two is entitled to the preference. 

After -culture. 

5^. In relating what I did in this respect, I 
shall take it for granted, that the reader will 
understand me as describing what I think ought 
to be done. 

57. When my ridges were laid up, and my 



CHAP. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. H? 

seed was sown, my neighbours thought, that 
there was an end of the process ; for, they all 
said, that, if the seed ever came up, being upon 
those high ridges, the plants never could live 
under the scorching of the sun. I knew that 
this was an erroneous notion ; but I had not 
much confidence in the powers of the soil, it 
being so evidently poor, and my supply of ma- 
nure so scanty. 

58. The plants, however, made their appear- 
ance with great regularity; no fly came to 
annoy them. The moment they were fairly up, 
we went with a very small hoe, and took all 
but one in each ten or eleven or twelve inches, 
and thus left them singly placed. This is a 
great point; for they begin to rob one another 
at a very early age, and, if left two or three 
weeks to rob each other, before they are set 
out singly, the crop will be diminished one- 
half To set the plants out in this way was a 
very easy and quickly-performed business; but, 
it is a business to be left to no one but a careful 
man. Boys can never safely be trusted with 
the deciding, at discretion, whether you shall 
have a large crop or a small one. 

59. But now, something else began to appear 
as well as turnip- plants; for, all the long grass 
and weeds having dropped their seeds the sum- 
mer before, and, probably, for many summers, 
they now came forth to demand their share of 



118 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [PARTI. 

that nourishment, produced by the fermenta* 
tion, the dews, and particularly the sim, which 
shines on all alike. I never saw a fiftieth part 
so many weeds in my life upon a like space of 
ground. Their little seed leaves, of various 
hues, formed a perfect mat on the ground. 
And now it was, that my wide ridges, which 
had appeared to my neighbours to be so very 
singular and so unnecessary, were absolutely 
necessary. First we went with a hoe, and hoed 
the tops of the ridges, about six inches wide. 
There were all the plants, then, clear and clean 
at once, with an expense of about half a day's 
work to an acre. Then we came, in our Botley 
fashion, with a single horse-plough, took a fur- 
row from the side of one ridge going up the 
field, a furrow from the other ridge coming 
down, then another furrow from the same side 
of the first ridge going up, and another from 
the same side of the other ridge coming down, 
Ix^ the taking away of the last two furrows, we 
went within three inches of the turnip-plants. 
Thus there was a ridge over the original gutter. 
Then we turned these furrows back again to the 
turnips. And, having gone, in this manner, 
over the whole piece, there it was with not a 
weed alive in it. All killed by the sun, and 
the field as clean and as fine as any garden that 
ever was seen. 

60. Those who know the effect of tillage be- 



CHAP. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE, 119 

tween growing plants, and especially if the earth 
be moved deep (and, indeed, what American 
does not know what such effect is, seeing that, 
without it, there would be no Indian Corn ?) ; 
those that reflect on this effect, may guess at the 
effect on my Ruta Baga plants, which soon gave 
me, by their appearance, a decided proof, that 
TuLL's principles are always true, in whatever 
soil or climate applied. 

61. It was now a very beautiful thing to see 
a regular, unbroken line of fine, fresh-looking 
plants upon the tops of those wide ridges, 
which had been thought to be so very whimsical 
and unnecessary. But, why have the ridges so 
very wide ? This question was not new to me, 
who had to answer it a thousand times in Eng- 
land. It is because you cannot plough deep and 
clean in a narrower space than four feet ; and, 
it is the deep and clean ploughing that I regard 
as the surest means of a large crop, especially 
in poor, or indifferent ground. It is a great 
error to suppose, that there is any ground lost 
by these wide intervals. My crop f^i thirty-three 
tons, or thirteen hundred and twenty bushels^ to 
the acre, taking a whole field together, had the 
same sort of intervals; while my neighbour's, 
with two feet intervals, never arrived at two- 
thirds of the weight of that crop. There is no 
ground lost , for, any one, who has a miijd to 
do it, may satisfy himself, that the lateral roots 



120 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [PART L 

of any fine large turnip will extend more than 
six feet from the bulb of the plant. The inter- 
vals are full of these roots, the breaking of 
which and the moving of which, as in the case 
of Indian Corn, gives new food and new roots, 
and produces wonderful effects on the plants. 
Wide as my intervals were, the leaves of some 
of the plants very nearly touched those of the 
plants on the adjoining ridge, before the end of 
their growth ; and I have had them frequently 
meet in this way in England. They would 
always do it here, if the ground were rich and 
the tillage proper. How then, can the inter- 
vals be too wide, if the plants occupy the in- 
terval ? And how can any ground be lost if 
every inch be full of roots and shaded by 
leaves ? 

62. After the last-mentioned operation my 
plants remained till the weeds had again made 
their appearance; or, rather, till a new brood 
had started up. When this was the case, we 
went with the hoe again, and cleaned the tops of 
the ridges as before. The weeds under this all- 
powerful sun, instantly perish. Then we re- 
peated the former operation with the one-horse 
plough. After this nothing was done but to 
pull up now and then a weed, which had 
escaped the hoe ; for, as to the plough-share, no- 
thing escapes that. 

63. Now, I think, no farmer can discover in 



CHAP. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 121 

this process any thing more difficult, more trou- 
blesome, more expensive, than in the process ab- 
solutely necessary to the obtaining of a crop of 
Indian Corn. And yet, I will venture to say, 
that in any land, capable of bearing ffty bushels 
of corn upon an acre, more than a thousand 
bushels of Ruta Baga may, in the above described 
manner, be raised. 

64. In the broad-cast method the after-culture 
must, of course, be confined to hoeing, or, as 
TuLL calls it, scratching. In England, the 
hoer goes in when the plants are about four 
inches high, and hoes all the ground, setting out 
the plants to about eighteen inches apart ; and, 
if the ground be at all foul, he is obliged to 
go in in about a month afterwards, to hoe the 
ground again. This is all that is done ; and a 
very poor all it is, as the crops, on the very best 
ground, compared with the ridged crops, inva- 
riably show. 

Transplanting. 

^5. This is a third mode of cultivating the 
Ruta Baga ; and, in certain cases, far prefer- 
able to either of the other two. My large crops 
at Botley were from roots transplanted. I re- 
sorted to this mode in order to insure a crop in 
spite of \hejiy ; but, I am of opinion, that it is, 
in all cases, the best mode, provided hands can 
be obtained in sufficient number, just for a few 



V2'i RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [PART I. 

days, or weeks, as the quantity may be, when 
the land and the plants are ready. 

66. Much light is thrown on matters of this 
sort by describing what one has dojie one's self 
relating to them. This is practice at once ; or, 
at least, it comes much nearer to it than any in- 
structions possibly can. 

67- It was an accident that led me to the 
practice. In the summer of 1812,1 had a piece 
of Ruta Baga in the middle of a field, or, rather, 
the piece occupied a part of the field, having a 
crop of carrots on one side, and a crop of Man- 
gel Wurzel on the other side. On the 20th of 
July the turnips, or rather, those of them which 
had escaped the fly, began to grow pretty well. 
They had been sown in drills; and I was anxious 
to fill up the spaces, which had been occasioned 
by the ravages of the Jly. I, therefore, took 
the supernumerary plants, which I found in the 
un-attacked places, and filled up the rows by 
transplantation, which I did also in two other 
fields. 

68. The turnips, thus transplanted, greWy 
and, in fact, were pretty good ; but, they were 
very far inferior to those which had retained 
their original places. But, it happened, that on 
one side of the above-mentioned piece of turnips, 
there was a vacant space of about a yard in 
breadth. When the ploughman had finished 
ploughing between the rows of turnips, I made 



CHAP. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 123 

him plough up that spare ground very deep, 
and upon it I made my gardener go and plant 
two rows of turnips. These became the largest 
and finest of the whole piece, though trans- 
planted two days later than those which had 
been transplanted in the rows throughout the 
piece. The cause of this remarkable difference, 
I at once saw, was, that these had been put 
into newly 'ploughed ground ; for, though I had 
not read much of TuLL at the time here referred 
to, I knew, from the experience of my whole 
life, that plants as well as seeds ought always to 
go into ground as recently moved as possible ; 
because at every moving of the earth, and par- 
ticularly at every turning of it, a new process of 
fermentation takes place, fresh exhalations arise, 
and a supply of the food of plants is thus pre- 
pared for the newly arrived guests. Mr. CuR- 
WEN, the Member of Parliament, though a 
poor thing as to public matters, has published 
not a bad book on agriculture. It is not bad, 
, because it contains many authentic accounts of 
experiments made by himself; though I never 
can think of his book without thinking, at the 
same time, of the gross and scandalous plagia- 
risms, which he has committed upon TuLL. 
Without mentioning particulars, the " Honour^ 
" able Member" will, I am sure, know what I 
mean, if this page should ever have the honour 
to fall under his eye j and he will, I hope. 



124 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [PART I. 

repent, and give proof of his repentance, by a 
restoration of the property to the right owner. 

69. However, Mr. CURWEN, in his book, gives 
an account of the wonderful effects of moving the 
ground between plants in rows ; and he tells us 
of an experiment, which he made, and which 
proved, that from ground just ploughed, in a 
very dry time, an exhalation of many tons weight, 
per acre, took place, during the first twenty- 
four hours after ploughing, and of a less and less 
number of tons, during the three or four suc- 
ceeding twenty-four hours; that, in the course 
of about a week, the exhalation ceased; and 
that, during the whole period, the ground, 
though in the same afield, which had iiot been 
ploughed when the other ground was, exhaled 
7iot an ounce I When I read this in Mr. CuR- 
WEN's book, which was before I had read TULL, 
I called to mind, that, having once dug the 
ground between some rows of part of a plot of 
cabbages in my garden, in order to plant some 
late peas, I perceived (it was in a dry time) the , 
cabbages, the next morning, in the part re- 
cently dug, with big drops of dew hanging on 
the edges of the leaves, and in the other, or 
undug part of the plot, no drops at all. I had 
forgotten the fact till I read Mr. CURWEN, and 
I never knew the cause till I read the real Father 
of English Husbandry. 

70. From this digression I return to the his- 



CHAP. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 125 

tory, first of my English transplanting. I saw, 
at once, that the only way to ensure a crop of 
turnips was by transplantation. The next year, 
therefore, I prepared a field of five acres, and 
another of twelve. I made ridges, in the man- 
ner described, for sowing; and, on the 7th of 
June in the first field, and on the 20th of July 
in the second field, I planted my plants. I as- 
certained to an exactness, that there were thirty- 
three tons to an acre, throughout the whole 
seventeen acres. After this, I never used any 
other method. I never sazv above half as great 
a crop in any other person's land ; and, though 
we read of much greater in agricultural prize 
reports, they must have been of the extent of a 
single acre, or something in that way. In my 
usual order, the ridges four feet asunder, and 
the plants afoot asunder on the ridge, there were 
ten thousand eight hundred aiid thirty turnips on 
the acre of ground -, and, therefore, for an acre 
to weigh thirty-three tons, each turnip must 
weigh very nearly seven pounds. After the time 
here spoken of, I had an acre or two at the end 
of a large field, transplanted on the 13th of July, 
which, probably, weighed fifty tons an acre. 
I delayed to have them weighed till a fire hap- 
pened in some of my farm buildings, which pro- 
duced a further delay, and so the thing was not 
done at allj but, I weighed one waggon load, 
the turnips of which averaged eleven pounds 



126 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [PART t. 

each J and several weighed fourteen pounds 
each. My very largest upon Long Island 
vi^eighed iwelve pounds and a half. In all these 
cases, as well here as in England, the produce 
was from transplanted plants; though at Hyde 
Park, I have many turnips of more than ten 
pounds weight each from soxvn plants, some 
of which, on account of the great perfection in 
their qualities, I have selected, and am now 
planting out, for seed. 

71. I will now give a full account of my trans- 
planting at Hyde Park. In a part of the ground 
which was put into ridges and sown, I scat- 
tered the seed along very thinly upon the top of 
the ridge. But, however thinly you may at- 
tempt to scatter such small seeds,^ there will 
always be too many plants, if the tillage be 
good and the seed good also. I suffered these 
plants to stand as they came upj and, they 
stood much too long, on account of my want 
of hands, or, rather, my want of time to attend 
to give my directions in the transplanting ; and, 
indeed, my example too -, for, I met not with a 
man who knew how iofix a plant in the ground j 
and, strange as it may appear, more than half 
the bulk of crop depends on a little, trifling, 
contemptible twist of the settiiig- sticky or dibble ; 
a thing very well known to all gardeners in the 
case of cabbages, and about which, therefore, I 
will give, by and by, very plain instructions. 



GHAP. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 12? 

72. Thus puzzled, and not being able to spare 
time to do the job myself, I was one day looking 
at my poor plants, which w^ere daily suffering 
for want of removal, and was thinking how glad 
I should be of one of the ChurCHERS at Botley, 
who, I thought to myself, would soon clap me 
out my turnip patch. At this very time, and 
into the field itself, came a cousin of one of 
these Churchers, who had lately arrived from 
England ! It was very strange, but literally the 
fact. 

73. To work Churcher and I went, and, with 
the aid of persons to pull up the plants and 
bring them to us, we planted out about two 
acres, in the mornings and evenings of six days ; 
for the weather was too hot for us to keep out 
after breakfasty until about two hours before 
sun-set. There was a friend staying with me, 
who helped us to plant, and who did, indeed, as 
much of the work as either Churcher or I. 

74. The time when this was done was from 
the 21st to the 28th of August y one Sunday and 
one day of no planting, having intervened. 
Every body knows, that this is the very hottest 
season of the year; and, as it happened, this 
was, last summer, the very driest also. The 
weather had been hot and dry from the \Oth of 
August i and so it continued to the l^th of Sep- 
tember. Any gentleman who has kept a 
journal of last year, upon Long Island, will 



1^ RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [PART 1, 

know this to be correct. Who would have 
thought to see these plants thrive j who would 
have thought to see them live P The next day 
after being planted, their leaves crumbled between 
our fingers, like the old leaves of trees. In two 
days there was no more appearance of a crop 
upon the ground than there was of a crop on 
the Turnpike-road. But, on the 2nd of Septem- 
ber, as I have it in my memorandum book, the 
plants began to show life; and, before the rain 
came, on the 12th, the piece began to have an 
air of verdure, and, indeed, to grow and to pro- 
mise a good crop. 

75. I will speak of the bulk of this crop by 
and by ; but, I must here mention another 
transplantation that I made in the latter end of 
full/. A plot of ground, occupied by one of 
my earliest sowings, had the turnips standing 
in it in rows at eighteen inches asunder, and at 
a foot asunder in the rows. Towards the middle 
of July I found, that one half of the rows must 
be taken away, or that the whole would be of 
little value. Having pulled up the plants, I 
intended to translate them (as they say of 
Bishops) from the garden to the field ; but, I 
had no ground ready. However, I did not like 
to throw away these plants, which had already 
bulbs as large as hens' eggs. They were carried 
into the cellar, where they lay in a heap, till 
(which would soon happen in such hot weather) 



CHAP. 11.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 1Q9 

they began to ferment. This made the most of 
their leaves turn white. Unwilling, still, to 
throw them away, I next laid them on the grass 
in the front of the house, where they got the 
dews in the night, and they were covered with 
a mat during the day, except two days, when 
they were overlooked, or, rather, neglected. The 
heat was very great, and, at last, supposing 
these plants deady I did not cover them any 
more. There they lay abandoned till the 24th 
of July, on which day I began planting Cabbages 
in my field. I then thought, that 1 would tri/ 
the hardiness of a Ruta Baga plant. I took 
these same abandoned plants, without a morsel 
of gree7i left about them j planted them in part 
of a row of the piece of cabbages ; and they, a 
hundred and six in number, weighed, when they 
were taken up, in December, 7iine hundred and 
one pounds. One of these turnips weighed twelve 
pounds and a half. 

76. But, it ought to be observed, that this 
was in ground which had been got up in my 
best manner; that it had some of the best of 
my manure ; and, that uncommon pains were 
taken by myself in the putting in of the plants. 
This experiment shows, what a hardy plant this 
is ; but, I must caution the reader against a 
belief, that it is either desirable or prudent to 
put this quality to so severe a test. There is no 
necessity for it, in general; and, indeed, the 

K 



130 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [PART I. 

rule is, that the shorter time the plants are out 
of the ground the better. 

77. But, as to the business of transplanting, 
there is one very material observation to make. 
The ground ought to be as fresh j that is to say, 
as recently moved by the plough, as possible; 
and that for the reasons before stated. The way 
I go on is this : my land is put up into ridges, 
as described under the head oi manner of sowing. 
This is done before-hand, several days; or, it 
may be, a week or more. When we have our 
plants and hands all ready, the ploughman 
begins, and turns in the ridges ; that is to say, 
ploughs the ground back again, so that the top 
of the new ploughed ridge stands over the place 
where the channel, or gutter, or deep furrow, 
was, before he began. As soon as he has finished 
the first ridge, the planters plant it, while he is 
ploughing the second : and so on throughout 
the field. That this is not a very tedious pro- 
cess the reader needs only to be told, that, in 
1816, I \\2idL fifty 'two acres of Ruta Baga planted 
in this way ; and I think I had more than fifty 
thousand bushels. A smart hand will plant half 
an acre a day, with a girl or a boy to drop the 
plants for him. I had a man, who planted an 
acre a day many a time. But, supposing that 
a quarter of an acre is a day's work, what are 
four days* work, when put in competition with 
the value of an acre of this invaluable root? 



.CHAP. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 131 

And what farmer is there, who has common 
industry, who would grudge to bend his ozvn 
back eight or twelve days, for the sake of keepr 
ing all his stock through the Spring months, 
when dry food is loathsome to them, and when 
grass is by nature denied ? 

78. Observing well what has been said about 
earth perfectly fresh, and never forgetting this, 
let us now talk about the act of planting; the 
mere mechanical operation of putting the plant 
into the ground. We have a setting-stick 
which should be the top of a spade-handle cut 
oft*, about ten inches below the eye. It must 
be pointed smoothly ; and, if it be shod with 
thin iron -, that is to say, covered with an iron 

. sheath, it will work more smoothly, and do its 
business the better. At any rate the point 
should be nicely smoothed, and so should the 
-whole of the tool. The planting is performed 
like that of cabbage-plants ; but, as I have met 
, with very ievf persons, out of the market gar- 
dens, and gentlemen's gardens in England, who 
, knew how to plant a cabbage-plant, so I am led 
, to suppose, that very iew, comparatively speak- 
' ing, know how to plant a turnip-plant. 

79. You constantly hear people say, that they 
wait for a showery in order to put out their cab- 

. bage-plants. Never was there an error more 
.general or more complete in all its parts. In- 
stead of rainy weather being the best time, it is 

K 2 



132 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [PART I. 

the very worst time, for this business of trans- 
plantation, whether of cabbages or of any thing 
else, from a lettuce-plant to an apple-tree. I 
have proved the fact, in scores upon scores of 
instances. The first time that I had any expe- 
rience of the matter was in the planting out of 
a plot of cabbages in my garden at Wilmington 
in Delaware. I planted in dry weather, and, 
as I had always done, in such cases, I zvatered 
the plants heavily ; but, being called away for 
some purpose, I left one row unwatered, and it 
happened, that it so continued without my ob- 
serving it till the next day. The sun had so 
completely scorched it by the next night, that 
when I repeated my watering of the rest, I left 
it, as being unworthy of my care, intending to 
plant some other thing in the ground occupied 
by this dead row. But, in a few days, I saw, 
that it was not dead. It grew soon afterwards ; 
and, in the end, the cabbages of my dead row 
were not only larger, but earlier in loaving, than 
any of the rest of the plot. 

80. The reason is this : if plants are put into 
loet earth, the setting-stick squeezes the earth 
up against the tender fibres in a mortar-like 
state. The sun comes and bakes this mortar 
into a sort of glazed clod. The hole made by 
the stick is also a smooth sided hole, which re- 
tains its form, and presents, on every side, an 
impenetrable substance to the fibres. In short. 



CHAP. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 135 

such as the hole is made, such it, in a great mea- 
sure, remains, and the roots are cooped up in 
this sort Orwell, instead of having a free course 
left them to seek their food on every side. Be- 
sides this, the fibres get, from being wet when 
planted, into a small compass. They all cling 
about the tap root, and are stuck on to it by the 
wet dirt J in which state, if a hot sun follow, they 
are all baked together in a lump, and cannot 
stir. On the contrary, when put into ground 
unwet, the reverse of all this takes place ; and 
the fresh earth will, under any sun, supply mois- 
ture in quantity sufficient. 

81. Yet, in July and August, both in Eng* 
land and America, how many thousands and 
thousands are waiting for a shower to put out 
their plants ! And then, when the long-wished- 
for shower comes, they must plant upon stale 
ground, for they have it dug ready, as it were, 
for the purpose of keeping them company in 
waiting for the shower. Thus all the fermen- 
tations which took place upon the digging, is 
gone; and, when the planting has once taken 
place, farewell to the spade ! For, it appears to 
be a privilege of the Indian corn to receive 
something like good usage after being planted. 
It is very strange that it should have been thus, 
for what reason is there for other plants not en- 
joying a similar benefit? The reason is, that 
they will produce something without it; and 



134 ftUTA BAGA CULTURE. [PART L 

the Indian corn will positively produce notliing > 
for which the Indian corn is very much to be 
commended. As an instance of this effect of 
deeply moving the earth between growing crops, 
I will mention, that, in the month of June, and 
on the 26th of that month, a very kind neigh- 
bour of mine, in whose garden I was, showed 
me a plot of Green Savoy Cabbages, which he 
had planted in some ground as rich as ground 
could be. He had planted them about three 
weeks before ; and they appeared very fine in-, 
deed. In the seed bed, from which he had 
taken his plants, there remained about a hun- 
dred i but, as they had been left as of no use, 
they had drawn each other up, in company with 
the weeds, till they were about eighteen inches 
high, having only a starved leaf or two upon 
the top of each. I asked my neighbour to give 
jme these plants, which be readily did ; but 
begged me not to plant them, for, he assured 
me, that they would come to nothing. Indeed, 
they were a ragged lot; but, I had no plants 
•of my own sowing more than two inches high. 
I, therefore, took these plants and dug some 
ground for them between some rows of scarlet 
blossomed beans, which mount upon poles. 
I cut a stick on purpose, and put the plants 
very deep into the ground. My beans came off 
in August, and then the ground was well dug 
between the rows of cabbages. In September, 



CHAP. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 135 

mine had far surpassed the prime plants of my 
neighbour. And, in the end I believe, that ten 
of my cabbages would have weighed a hundred 
of his, leaving out the stems in both cases. But, 
his had remained uncultivated after planting. 
The ground, battered down by successive rains, 
had become hard as a brick. All the stores 
of food had been locked up, and lay in a dor- 
mant state. There had been no renewed fermen- 
tations, and no exhalations. 

82. Having now said what, I would fain 
hope, will convince every reader of the folly of 
waiting for a shower in order to transplant plants 
of any sort, I will now speak of the mere act of 
planting, more particularly than I have hitherto 
spoken. 

83. The hole is made sufficiently deep ; 
deeper than the length of the root does really 
require ; but, the root should not be bent at 
the point, if it can be avoided. Then, while 
one hand holds the plant, with its root in the 
hole, the other hand applies the setting-stick to 
the earth on one side of the hole, the stick being 
held in such a way as to form a sharp triangle 
with the plant. Then pushing the stick down, 
so that its point goes a little deeper than the 
point of the rooty and giving it a little twist, it 
presses the earth against the pointy or bottom 
of the root. And thus all is safe, and the plant 
is sure to grow. 



136 jlUTA BAGA CULTURE. [PART I. 

84. The general, and almost universal fault, 
is, that the planter, when he has put the root 
into the hole, draws the earth up against the 
upper part of the root, or stem, and, if he presses 
pretty well there, he thinks that the planting is 
well done. But, it is the point of the root, 
against which the earth ought to be pressed, for 
there i\ie fibres arej and, if they do not touch the 
earth closely, the plant will not thrive. The 
reasons have been given in paragraphs 51 and 52, 
in speaking of the sowing of seeds. It is the 
same in all cases of transplanting or planting. 
Trees, for instance, will be sure to grow, if you 
sift the earth, or pulverize it very finely, and 
place it carefully and closely about the roots. 
When we plant a tree, we see all covered by 
tumbling in the earth ; and, it appears whimsi- 
cal to suppose, that the earth does not touch all 
the roots. But, the fact is, that unless great 
pains be taken, there will be many cavities in 
the hole where the tree is planted ; and, in 
whatever places the earth does not closely 
touch the root, the root will mould, become 
cankered, and will lead to the producing of a 
poor tree. 

85. When I began transplanting in fields in 
England, I had infinite difficulty in making my 
planters attend to the directions, which I have 
here given. " The point of the stick to the 
point of the root /" was my constant cry. As 



CHAP. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 137 

I could not be much with my work-people, I 
used, in order to try whether they had planted 
properly, to go after them, and now-and-then 
take the tip of a leaf between my finger and 
thumb. If the plant resisted the pull, so as for 
the bit of leaf to come away, I was sure that 
the plant was well fixed; but, if the pull 
brought up the plant out of the ground ; then 
I was sure, that the planting was not well done. 
After the first field or two, I had no trouble. 
My work was as well done, as if the whole had 
been done by myself- My planting was done 
chiefly by young womeriy each of whom would 
plant half an acre a day, and their pay was 
ten pence sterling a day. What a shame, then, 
for any man to shrink at the trouble and labour 
of such a matter ! Nor, let it be imagined, that 
these young women were poor, miserable, rag- 
ged, squalid creatures. They were just the 
contrary. On a Sunday they appeared in their 
white dresses, and with silk umbrellas over 
their heads. Their constant labour afforded the 
means of dressing well, their early rising and 
exercise gave them health, their habitual clean- 
liness and neatness, for which the women of the 
South of England are so justly famed, served 
to aid in the completing of their appearance, 
which was that of fine rosy-cheeked country- 
girls, fit to be the helpmates, and not the burdens, 
of their future husbands. 



138 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [PART I. 

86. But, at any rate, what can be said for a 
man that thinks too much of such a piece of 
labour ? The earth is always grateful ; but it 
must and will have something to be grateful 
for. As far as my little experience has enabled 
me to speak, I find no want of willingness to 
learn in any of the American workmen. Ours, 
in England, are apt to be very obstinate, espe- 
cially if getting a little old. They do not like 
to be taught any thing. They say, and they 
think, that what their fathers did was best. To 
tell them, that it was your affair, and not theirs, 
is nothing. To tell them, that the loss, if any, 
will fall upon yoUy and not upon them, has very 
little weight. They argue, that, they being the 
real doers, ought to be the best judges of the 
viode of doing. And, indeed, in most cases, they 
are, and go about this work with wonderful 
skill and judgment. But, then, it is so difficult 
to induce them cordially to do any thing 7iew, 
or any old thing in a 7iew way ; and the abler 
they are as workmen, the more untractable they 
are, and the more difficult to be persuaded 
that any one knows any thing, relating to farm- 
ing affairs, better than they do. It was this 
difficulty that made me resort to the employ- 
ment of young women in the most important 
part of my farming, the providing of immense 
quantities of cattle-food. But, I do not find 
this difficulty here, where no workmen are ob- 



CHAP. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 139, 

stinate, and where, too, all one's neighbours 
rejoice at one's success, which is by no means the 
case amongst the farmers in England. 

87' Having now given instructions relative 
to the business of transplanting of the Ruta 
Baga, let us see, whether it be not preferable 
to either the ridge-sowing method, or the broad- 
cast method. 

88. In the first place, when the seed is sown 
on the ground where the plants are to come to 
perfection, the ground, as we have seen in pa- 
ragraph 40 and paragraph 47, must be prepared 
early in June, at the latest; but, in the trans- 
planting method, this work may be put off, if 
need be, till early in August, as we have seen in 
paragraphs 74 and 15. However, the best time 
for transplanting is about the 26th of July, and 
this gives a month for preparation of land, more 
than is allowed in the sowing methods. This,^ 
of itself, is a great matter; but, there are others 
of far greater importance. 

89. This transplanted crop may follow another 
crop on the same land. Early cabbages will 
loave and be away ; early peas will be ripe and 
off; nay, even wheat, and all grain, except buck- 
wheat, may be succeeded by Ruta Baga trans- 
planted. I had crops to succeed Potatoes, 
Kidney Beans, White Peas, Onions, and even 
Indian Corn, gathered to eat green ; and, the 
reader will please to bear in mind, that I did 



140 RUTA BACA CULTURE. [PART I. 

not sow, or plant, any of my first crops, just 
mentioned, till the month of June. What might 
a man do, then, who is in a state to begin with 
his first crops as soon as he pleases ? Who has 
his land all in order, and his manure ready to 
be applied. 

90. Another great advantage of the trans- 
planting method is, that it saves almost the 
whole of the after- culture. There is no hoeing ; 
no thijijiing of the plants; and not more than 
one ploughing between the ridges. This is a 
great consideration, and should always be 
thought of, when we are talking of the trouble 
of transplanting. The turnips which I have 
mentioned in paragraphs 72 and 73 had 7io 
after-culture of any sort ; for they soon spread 
the ground over with their leaves; and, indeed, 
after July, very few weeds made their appear- 
ance. The season for their coming up is passed; 
and, as every farmer well knows, if there be 
no weeds up at the end of July, very few will 
come that summer, 

91. Another advantage of the transplanting 
method is, that you are sure that you have your 
right number of plants, and those regularly 
placed. For, in spite of all you can do in 
sowing, there will be deficiencies and irregu- 
rities. The seed may not come up, in some 
places. The plants may, in some places, be 
destroyed in their infant state. They may, now 



CHAP. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 141 

and then, be cut off with the hoe. The best 
plants may sometimes be cut up, and the infe- 
rior plants left to grow. And, in the broad- 
cast method, the irregularity and uncertainty 
must be obvious to every one. None of these 
injurious consequences can arise in the trans- 
planting method. Here, when the work is once 
well done, the crop is certain, and all cares are 
at an end. 

92. In taking my leave of this part of my 
treatise, I must observe, that it is useless, and, 
indeed, unjust, for any man to expect success, 
unless he attend to the thing himself, at leasts 
till he has made the matter perfectly familiar to 
his work-people. To neglect any part of the 
business is, in fact, to neglect the whole; just 
as much as neglecting to put up one of the 
sides of a building, is to neglect the whole 
building. Were it a matter of trifling moment, 
personal attention might be dispensed withj 
but, as I shall, I think, clearly show, this is a 
matter of very great moment to every farmer. 
The object is, not merely to get roots, but to 
get them of a large size; for, as I shall show, 
there is an amazing difference in this. And, 
large roots are not to be gotten without care^ 
which, by the by, costs nothing. Besides, the 
care bestowed in obtaining this crop, removes 
all the million of cares and vexations of the 
Spring months, when bleatings everlasting din 



142 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [PART I. 

the farmer almost out of his senses, and make 
him ready to knock the brains out of the cla- 
mourous flock, when he ought to feel pleasure 
in the filling of their bellies. 

93. Having now done with the different modes 
of cropping the ground with Ruta Baga, I will, 
as I proposed in paragraph 49, speak about 
the preparation of the land gejierally ; and in 
doing this, I shall suppose the land to have 
borne a good crop of wheat the preceding year, 
and, of course, to be in good heart, as we call 
it in England. 

94. I would plough this ground in the fall 
into ridges four feet asunder. The ploughing 
should be very deep, and the ridges well laid 
up. In this situation it would, by the suc- 
cessive frosts and thaws, be shaken and broken 
fine as powder by March or April. In April, 
it should be turned backj always ploughing 
deep. A crop of weeds would be well set upon 
it by the first of June, when they should be 
smothered by another turning back. Then, 
about the third zoeek in June, I would carry in 
my manure, and fling it along on the trenches 
or furrows. After this I would follow the turn- 
ing back for the sowing, as is directed in para- 
graph 50. ^ow, here are four ploughings. And 
what is the cost of these ploughings ? My man, 
a black man, a native of this Island, ploughs, 
with his pair of oxen and no driver, a?i acre and 



CHAP. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 143 

a half a day^ and his oxen keep their flesh ex- 
tremely well upon the refuse of the Ruta Baga 
which I send to market. What is the cost then ? 
And, what a fine state the grass is thus brought 
into ! A very different thing indeed is it to 
plough hard ground, from what it is to plough 
ground in this fine, broken state. Besides, every 
previous ploughing, especially deep ploughing, 
is equal to a seventh part of an ordinary coat 
of manure. 

95. In the broad-cast method I would give 
the same number of previous ploughings, and 
at the same seasons of the year. I would spread 
the manure over the ground just before I 
ploughed it for sowing. Then, when I ploughed 
for the sowing, I would, if I had only one pair 
of oxen, plough about half an acre, harrow the 
ground, sow it immediately y and roll it with a 
light roller, which a little horse might draw, 
in order to press the earth about the seeds, and 
cover them too. There need be no harrowing 
after sowing. We never do it in England. The 
roller does all very completely, and the sowing 
upon the fresh earth will, under any sun, fur- 
nish the moisture sufficient. I once sowed, on 
ridges, with a Bennett's drill, and neither har- 
rowed nor rolled nor used any means at all of 
covering the seeds 3 and yet I had plenty of plants 
and a very fine crop of turnips. I sowed a 
piece of white turnips, broad-cast, at Hyde Park, 



144 RUTA BAG A CULTURE. [PART I. 

last summer, on the eleventh of August, which 
did very well, though neither harrowed nor 
rolled after being sown. But, in both these 
cases, there came rain directly after the sowing, 
which battered down the seeds ; and which rain, 
indeed, it was, which prevented the rolling; for, 
that cannot take place when the ground is wet ; 
because, then, the earth will adhere to the roller, 
which will go on growing in size like a rolling 
snow-ball. To harrow after the sowing is sure 
to do mischief. We always bury seeds too 
deip ; and, in the operation of harrowing, more 
than half the seeds of turnips must be destroyed, 
or rendered useless. If a seed lies beyond the 
proper depth, it will either remain in a quiescent 
state, until some movement of the earth bring it 
up to the distance from the surface, which will 
make it vegetate, or, it will vegetate, and come 
up later than the rest of the plants. It will be 
feebler also ; and it will never be equal to a 
plant, which has come from a seed near the 
surface. 

96. Before I proceed further, it may not be 
amiss to say something more respecting the 
burying of seed, though it may here be rather 
out of place. Seeds buried below their proper 
depth, do not come up ; but, many of them are 
near enough to the surface, sometimes, to vege- 
tatCy without coming up; and then they die. This 
is the case, in many instances, with more than 



CHAP. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 145 

one half of the seed that is sown. But, if seeds 
be buried so deep, that they do not even vegetate, 
then they do not die; and this is one cause, 
though not the only cause, of our wondering to 
see weeds conoe up, where we are sure that no 
seeds have fallen for many years. At every 
digging, or every ploughing, more or less of the 
seeds, that have formerly been buried, come up 
near the surface j and then they vegetate. I 
have seen many instances in proof of this fact ; 
but, the particular instance, on which I found 
the positiveness of my assertion, was in Parsnip 
seed. It is a very delicate seed. It will, if 
beat out, keep only one year. I had a row of 
fine seed parsnips in my garden, many of the 
seeds of which fell in the gathering. The ground 
was dug in the fall ; and, when I saw it full of 
parsnips in the Spring, I only regarded this as a 
proof, that parsnips might be sown in the fall, 
though I have since proved, that it is a very bad 
practice. The ground was dug again, and again 
for several successive years ; and there was 
always a crop of parsnips, without a grain of 
seed ever having been sown on it. But lest any 
one should take it into his head, that this is a 
most delightful way of saving the trouble of 
sowing, I ought to state, that the parsnips 
coming thus at random, gave me a great deal 
more labour, than the same crop would have 
given me in the regular way of sowing. Besides, 

L 



146 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [PART I. 

the fall is not the time to sow, as my big and 
white parsnips, now selling in New York mar- 
ket, may clearly show; seeing that they were 
sown in June ! And yet, people are flocking to 
the Western Countries in search of rich land, 
while thousands of acres of such land as I oc- 
cupy are lying waste in Long Island, within 
three hours drive of the all-consuming and in- 
cessantly increasing city of New York ! 

97. 1 have now spoken of the preparation of 
the land for the reception of seeds. As to the 
preparation in the case of transplantation, it 
might be just the same as for the sowing on 
ridges. But here might, in this case, be one 
more previous ploughing y always taking care to 
plough in dry weather, which is an observation 
I ought to have made before. 

98. But, why should not the plants, in this 
case, succeed some other good crop, as men- 
tioned before ? I sowed some early peas (brought 
from England) on the 2nd of June. I haj^vested 
them, quite ripe and hard, on the 31st of July ; 
and I had very fine Ruta Baga, some weighing 
six pounds each, after the peas. How little is 
known of the powers of this soil and climate ! 
My potatoes were of the kidney sort, which, as 
every one knows, is not an early sort. They 
were planted oil the 2nd of June ; and they 
were succeeded by a most abundant crop of 
Ruta Baga. And, the manure for the peas and 



CHAP. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. U? 

potatoes served for the Ruta Baga also. In 
surveying my crops and feeling grateful to the 
kind earth and the glorious sun that produce 
these, to me, most delightful objects, how often 
have I turned, with an aching heart, towards 
the ill-treated Englishmen, shut up in dungeons 
by remorseless tyrants, while not a word had 
been uttered in their defence by, and while they 
were receiving not one cheering visit, or com- 
forting word frojm, SiR FRANCIS BURDETT, who 
had been the great immediate cause of their in- 
carceration ! 

99. As to the quantity and sort of manure to 
be used in general, it may be the same as for a 
sowing of rye, or of wheat. I should prefer 
ashes ; but, my large crops in England were on 
yard-dung, first thrown into a heap, and after- 
wards turned once or twice, in the usual manner 
as practised in England. At Hyde Park I had 
nothing but rakings'up about the yard, barn, &c. 
as described before. What I should do, and 
what I shall do this year, is, to make ashes out 
of dirty or earth, of any sort, not very stony. 
Nothing is so easy as this, especially in this fine 
climate. I see people go with their waggons 
five miles for soaper's ashes; that is to say, 
spent ashes, which they purchase at the landing 
place (for they come to the island in vessels) at 
the rate of about five dollars for forty bushels. 
Add the expense of land-carriage, and the forty 

L 2 



148 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [PART 1. 

bushels do not cost less than ten dollars. I am 
of opinion, that, by the burning of earth, as 
much manure may be got upon the land for 
half a dollar. I made an experiment last sum- 
mer, which convinces me, that, if the spent 
ashes be received as a gift at three miles distance 
of land-carriage, they are not a gift worth ac- 
cepting. But, this experiment was upon a small 
scale 5 and, therefore, I will not now speak posi- 
tively on the subject. 

100. I am now preparing to make a perfect 
trial of these ashes. I have just ploughed up 
a piece of ground, in which, a few years ago, 
Indian Corn was planted, and produced, as I 
am assured, only stalks, and those not more 
than two feet high. The ground has, every year 
since, borne a crop of weeds, rough grass, and 
briars, or brambles. The piece is about ten 
acres. I intend to have Indian corn on it 5 and, 
my manure shall be made on the spot, and con- 
sist of nothing but burnt earth. If I have a de- 
cent crop of Indian corn on this land so ma- 
nured, it will, I think, puzzle my good neigh- 
bours to give a good reason for their going Jive 
miles for spent ashes. 

101. Whether I succeed, or not, I will give 
an account of my experiment. This I know, 
that I, in the year 1815, burnt ashes, in one 
heap, to the amount of about tioo hundred 
English cart-loads, each load holding about 



CHAP. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 149 

forty bushels. I should not suppose, that the 
burning cost me more than jive dollars ; and 
there they were upon the spot, in the very field, 
where they were used. As to their effect, I 
used them for the transplanted Ruta Baga and 
Mangel Wurzel, and they produced full as 
great an effect as the yard-dung used on the 
same land. This process of burning earth into 
ashes, zmthout siiffering the smoke to escape, dur- 
ing any part of the process, is a discovery of 
Irish origin. It was pointed out to me by- 
Mr. William Gauntlett of Winchester, late 
a Commissary with the army in Spain. To 
this gentleman I also owe, England owes, and I 
hope America will owe, the best sort of hogs, 
that are, I believe, in the world. I was wholly 
unacquainted with Mr. Gauntlett, till the 
summer of 1815, when, happening to pass by 
my farm, he saw my hogs, cows, &c. and, when 
he came to my hou.se he called, and told me, 
that he had observed, that I wanted only a good 
sort of hogs, to make my stock complete. I 
thought, that I already had the finest in Eng- 
land 5 and I certainly had a very fine breed, the 
father of which, with legs not more than about 
six inches long, weighed, when he was killed, 
twenty-seven score, according to our Hampshire 
mode of stating hog-meat weight ; or. Jive him- 
dred and forty pounds. This breed has been 
fashioned by Mr. WOODS of Woodmancut in 



150 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [PART I. 

Sussex, who has been, I believe, more than 
twenty years about it. I thought it perfection 
itself J but, I was obliged to confess, that Mr. 
Gauntlett's surpassed it. 

102. Of the earth burning I will give an ac- 
count in my next Part of this work. Nothing 
is easier of performance ; and the materials are 
every where to be found. 

103. I think, that I have now pretty clearly 
given an account of the modes of sowing, and 
planting, and cultivating the Ruta Baga, and of 
the preparation of the land. It remains for me 
to speak of the time and manner of harvestingy 
the quantity of the crop, and of the uses of, and 
the mode of applying the crop. 

Time and Manner of Harvesting. 

104. This must depend, in some measure, 
upon the age of the turnip ; for, some will have 
their full growth earlier than others ; that is to 
say, those, which are sown first, or 'transplanted 
first, will be ripe before those which are sown, 
or transplanted latest. I have made ample ex- 
periments as to this matter; and I will, as in 
former cases, first relate what I did ; and then 
give my opinion as to what ought to be done. 

105. This was a concern in which I could 
have no knowledge last fall, never having seen 
any turnips harvested in America, and know- 
ing, that, as to American frosts, English expe- 



CHAP. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 151 

rieiice was only likely to mislead; for, in Eng- 
land, we leave the roots standing in the ground 
all the winter, where we feed them off with 
sheep, which scoop them out to the very bot- 
tom ; or we pull them as we want them, and 
bring them in to give to fatting oxen, to cows, 
or hogs. I had a fl:reat opinion of the hardiness 
of the Ruta Baga, and was resolved to try it 
here, and I did try it upon too large a scale. 

106. I began with the piece, the first men- 
tioned in paragraph 46 : a part of them were 
taken up on the \Sth of December, after we 
had had some pretty hard frosts. The manner 
of doing the work was this. We took up the 
turnips merely by pulling them. The greens 
had been cut off and given to cattle before. It 
required a spade, however, just to loosen them 
along the ridges, into which their tap-roots had 
descended very deeply. We dug holes at con- 
venient distances, of a square form, and about 
a foot deep. We put into each hole about fifty 
bushels of turnips, piling them up above the 
level of the surface of the land, in a sort of 
pyramidical form. When the heap was made, 
we scattered over it about a truss of rye-straw, 
and threw earth over the whole to a thickness 
of about a foot, taking care to point the cover- 
ing at top, in order to keep out wet. 

107. Thus was a small part of the piece put 
up. The 14th of December was a Sunday, a 



152 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [PART k 

day that I can find no Gospel precept for de- 
voting to the throwing away of the fruit of one's 
labours, and a day which I never will so devote 
again. However, I ought to have been earlier. 
On the Monday it rained. On the Monday 
night came a sharp North-Wester with its usual 
companion, at this season; that is to say, a 
sharp frost. Resolved to finish this piece on 
that day, I borrowed hands from my neigh- 
bours, who are always ready to assist one an- 
other. We had about two acres and a half to 
do; and it was necessary to employ about one 
half of the hands to go before the pullers and 
loosen the turnips with a spade in the frosty 
ground. About ten o'clock, I saw, that we 
should not finish, and there was every appear- 
ance of a hard frost at night. In order, there- 
fore, to expedite the work, I called in the aid 
of those efficient fellow-labourers, a pair of 
oxen, which, with a good strong plough, going 
up o?ie side of each row of turnips, took away 
the earth close to the bulbs, left them bare on 
one side, and thus made it extremely easy to 
pull them up. We wanted spades no longer; all 
our hands were employed taking up the turnips j 
and our job, instead of being half done that 
day, was completed by about tzvo o^clock. Well 
and justly did MoSES order, that the ox should 
not be muzzled while he was treading out the 
corn; for, surely, no animals are so useful. 



CHAP. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 153 

so docile, so gentle as these, while they require 
at our hands so little care and labour in re- 
turn ! 

108. Now, it will be observed, that the tur- 
nips here spoken of, were put up when the 
ground and the turnips were frozen. Yet they 
have kept perfectly sound and good j and I am 
preparing to plant some of them for seed. I 
am now writing on the 10//^ of April. I send 
off these turnips to market every week. The tops 
and tails and offal I give to the pigs, to the ewes 
and Iambs, and to a cow, and to working oxen, 
which all feed together upon this offal flung out 
about the barn-yard, or on the grass ground in 
the orchard. Before they have done, they leave 
not a morsel. But, oi feeding I shall speak by 
and by. 

109. The other crop of turnips, I mean those 
which were transplanted, as mentioned in para- 
graphs 72 and 73, and which, owing to their 
being planted so late in the summer, kept on 
groxmng most luxuriantly till the very hard frosts 
came. 

110. We were now got on to the I7th of 
December ; and I had cabbages to put up. Sa- 
turday, Sunday, and Monday, the 21st and 
22nd and 23rd, we had a very hard frost, as the 
reader, if he live on this island, will well re- 
member. There came a thaw afterwardsy and 
the transplanted turnips were put up like the 



154 RUTA EAGA CULTURE. [PART I. 

Others j but this hard frost had pierced them 
too deeply, especially as they were in so tender 
and luxuriant a state. Many of these we find 
rotted near the neck ; and, upon the whole, 
they have suffered a loss of about one half. An 
acre, left to take their chance in the fields turned 
out, like most of the games of hazard, a total 
loss. They were all rotted. 

111. This loss arose wholly from uiy want 
of sufficient experience. I was anxious to neg- 
lect no necessary precaution ; and I was fully 
impressed, as I always am, with the advantages 
of being early. But, early in December, I lost 
a week at New York ; and, though I worried 
my neighbours half to death to get at a know- 
ledge of the time of the hard weather setting 
in, I could obtain no knowledge, on which I 
could rely, the several accounts being so diffe- 
rent from each other. The general account 
was, that there would be no very hard weather 
till after Christmas. I shall know better another 
time! Major Cartwright says, in speaking 
of the tricks of English Boroughmongers, at the 
*' Glorious Revolution," that they will never be 
able to play the same tricks again j for that na- 
tions, like rational individuals, are not deceived 
twice in the same way. 

112. Thus have I spoken of the time and man- 
ner of harvestings as they took place with me. 
And, surely, the expense is a mere trifle. Two 



CHAP. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 155 

oxen and four men would harvest two acres in 
any clear day in the latter end of November; 
and thus is this immense crop harvested, and 
covered completely, for about two dollars and a 
half an acre. It is astonishing, that this is never 
done in England ! For, though it is generally 
said, that the Ruta Baga will stand any weather; 
I know, by experience, that it will not stand 
any weather. The winter of the year 1814, 
that is to say, the months of January and 
February, were very cold, and a great deal of 
snow fell ; and, in a piece of twelve acres, I had, 
in the month of March, two thirds of the tur- 
nips completely rotten s and these were amongst 
the finest that I ever grew, many of them weigh- 
ing twelve pounds each. Besides, when taken 
up in dry weather^ before the freezings and 
thawings begin, the dirt all falls off; and the 
bulbs are clean and nice to be given to cattle or 
sheep in the stalls or yards. For, though we in 
general feed off these roots upon the land with 
sheep, we cannot, in deep land, always do it. 
The land is too zoetj and particularly for ewes 
and lambs, which are, in such cases, brought 
into a piece of pasture land, or into a fold-yard, 
where the turnips are flung down to them in a 
dirty state, just carted from the field. And, 
again, the land is very much injured, and the 
labour augmented, by carting when the ground 
is a sort of mud-heap, or rather, pool. All these 



156 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [PART I. 

inconveniences and injuries would be avoided by 
harvesting in a dry day in November, if such a 
day should, by an accident, be found in Eng- 
land ; but, why not do the work in October, 
and sow wheat, at once, in the land ? More on 
this after-cropping, another time. 

113. In Long Island, and throughout the 
United States, where the weather is so fine in 
the fall J where every day, from the middle of 
October to the end of November (except a rainy 
day about once in 16 days), is as fair as the 
fairest May-day in England, and where such a 
thing as a ivater-furroto in a field was never 
heard of; in such a soil as this, and under such 
a climate as this, there never can arise any dif- 
ficulty in the way of the harvesting of turnips 
in proper time. I should certainly do it in No- 
vanber ; for, as we bave seen, a Hide frost does 
not affect the bulbs at all. I would put them 
in when perfectly drj/ ; make my heaps of about 
fifty bushels; and, when the frosts approached, 
I mean the ha?^d frosts, I would cover with 
corn-stalks, or straw, or cedar boughs, as many 
of the heaps as I thought I should want in 
January and February ; for, these coverings 
would so break the frost, as to enable me to 
open the heaps in those severe months. It is 
useless and inconvenient to take into barns, or 
out-houses, a very large quantity at a time. 
Besides, if left wicovered, the very hard frosts 



CHAP. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 15? 

will do them harm. To be sure, this is easily 
prevented, in the barn, by throwing a little straw 
over the heap ; but, being, by the means that I 
have pointed out, always kept ready in the field, 
to bring in a larger quantity than is used in a 
week, or thereabouts, would be wholly unneces- 
sary, besides being troublesome from the great 
space, which would thus be occupied. 

114. It is a great advantage in the cultivation 
of this crop, that the sozvifig, or transplanting 
time, comes afte?^ all the spring grain and the 
Indian Corn are safe in the ground, and before 
the harvest of grain begins ; and then again, in 
the fall, the taking up of the roots comes after 
the grain and corn, and buck-wheat harvests, 
and even after the sowing of the winter grain. 
In short, it seems to me, that the cultivation of 
this crop, in this country, comes, as it were ex- 
pressly, to fill up the unemployed spaces of the 
farmer's time ; but, if he prefer standing with 
arms folded, during these spaces of time, and 
hearing his flock bleat themselves half to death 
in March and April, or have no flock, and 
scarcely any cattle or hogs, raise a few loads of 
yard-dung, and travel five miles for ashes, and 
buy them dear at the end of the five miles; if 
he prefer these, then, certainly, I shall have 
written on this subject in vain. 



158 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [PART I. 

Quantity of the Crop. 

115. It is impossible for me to say, at present, 
what quantity of Ruta Baga may be grown on 
an acre of land in this Island. My three acres 
of ridged turnips, sown on the a6th of June, 
were very unequal, but, upon one of the acres, 
there were six hundred and forty bushels s I 
mean heaped bushels ; that is to say, an English 
statute bushel heaped as long as the commodity 
will lie on. The transplanted turnips yielded 
about four hundred bushels to the acre -, but then, 
observe, they were put in a full month too late. 
This year, I shall make a fair trial. 

116. I have given an account of my raising, 
upon five acres in one field, and twelve acres in 
another field, one thousand three hundred and 
twenty bushels to an acre, throughout the seven- 
teen acres. I have no doubt of equalling that 
quantity on this Island, and that, too, upon 
some of its poorest and most exhausted land. 
They tell me, indeed, that the last summer was 
a remarkably fine summer j so they said at 
Botley, when I had my first prodigious crop of 
Ruta Baga. This is the case in all the pursuits 
of life. The moment a man excels those, who 
ought to be able and willing to do as well as 
he; that moment, others set to work to dis- 
cover causes for his success, other than those 
proceeding from himself. But, as I used to tell 



CHAP. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 159 

my neighbours at Botley, they have had the 
same seasons that I have had. Nothing is so 
impartial as w^eather. As long as this sort of 
observation, or inquiry, proceeds from a spirit 
of emulatmi, it may be treated with great 
indulgence ; but, when it discovers a spirit of 
e?wi/y it becomes detestable, and especially in 
affairs of agriculture, where the appeal is made 
to our common parent, and where no man's 
success can be injurious to his neighbour, while 
it 7?uist be a benefit to his country, or the osun- 
try in which the success takes place. I must^ 
however, say, and I say it with feelings of great 
pleasure, as well as from a sense of justice, that 
I have observed in the American farmers no 
envy of the kind alluded to ; but, on the con- 
trary, the greatest satisfactiouy at my success j 
and not the least backwardness, but great for- 
wardness, to applaud and admire my mode of 
cultivating these crops. Not so, in England, 
where the farmers (generally the most stupid as 
well as most slavish and most churlish part of 
the nation) envy all who excel them, while they 
are too obstinate to profit from the example of 
those whom they envy. I say generally ; for 
there are many most honourable exceptions ; 
and, it is amongst that class of men that I have 
my dearest and most esteemed friends ; men of 
knowledge, of experience, of integrity, and of 
public-spint, equal to that of the best of English- 



160 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [PART I. 

men in the worst times of oppression. I would 
not exchange the friendship of one of these men 
for that of all the Lords that ever were created, 
though there are some of them very able and 
upright men, too. 

117. Then, if I maybe suffered to digress a 
little further here, there exists, in England, an 
institution, which has caused a sort of identity 
of agriculture zvitk politics. The Board of Agri- 
culture, established by Pitt for the purpose 
of sending spies about the country, under the 
guise of agricultural surveyors, in order to learn 
the cast of men's politics as well as the tax- 
able capacities of their farms and property ; this 
Board gives no premium or praise to any but 
" loyal farmers 3*' who are generally the greatest 
fools. I, for my part, have never had any com- 
munication with it. It was always an object 
of ridicule and contempt with me ; but, I know 
this to be the rule of that body, which is, in fact, 
only a little twig of the vast tree of corruption, 
which stunts, and blights, and blasts, all that 
approaches its poisoned purlieu. This Board 
has for its Secretary, Mr. ARTHUR YoUNG, a 
man of great talents, bribed from his good prin- 
ciples by this place of five hundred pounds a 
year. But Mr. YoUNG, though a most able 
man, is not always to be trusted. He is a bold 
asserterj and very few of his statements proceed 
upon actual experiments. And, as to what this 



CHAP. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 161 

Board has published, at the public expense, un- 
der the name of Communications, I defy the 
world to match it as a mass of illiterate, unin- 
telligible, useless trash. The only paper, pub- 
lished by this Board, that I ever thought worth 
keeping, was an account of the produce from a 
single cozv, communicated by Mr. Cramp, the 
jail-keeper of the County of Sussex; which con- 
tained very interesting and wonderful facts, pro- 
perly authenticated, and stated in a clear man- 
ner. 

118. Arthur Young is blind, and never 
attends the Board. Indeed, sorrowful to relate, 
he is become a religious fanatic, and this in so 
desperate a degree as to leave no hope of any 
possible cure. In the pride of our health and 
strength, of mind as well as of body, we little 
dream of the chances and changes of old age. 
Who can read the " Travels in France, Spain, 
" and Italy,'' and reflect on the present state of 
the admirable writer's mind, without feeling 
some diffidence as to what may happen to him- 
self! 

119. Lord Hardwicke, who is now the Pre- 
sident of the Board, is a man, not exceeding 
my negro, either in experience or natural abili- 
ties. A parcel of court-sycophants are the Vice- 
Presidents. Their committees and correspond- 
ents are a set of justices of the peace, nabobs 
become country-gentlemen, and parsons of the 

M 



162 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [PART I. 

worst description. And thus is this a mere 
pohtical job; a channel for the squandering of 
some thousands a year of the people's money 
upon worthless men, who ought to be working 
in the fields, or mending " His Majesty's High- 
" ways." 

120. Happily, politics, in this country, have 
nothing to do with agriculture; and here, there- 
iore, I think I have a chance to be fairly heard 
I should, indeed, have been heard in England; 
but, I really could never bring myself to do any 
thing tending to improve the estates of the op- 
pressors of my country ; and the same considera- 
tion now restrains me from communicating in- 
formation, on the subject of timber trees, which 
would be of immense benefit to England; and 
which information I shall reserve, till the ty- 
ranny shall be at an end. Castlereagh, in the 
fulness of his stupidity, proposed, that, in order 
to find employment for " the population,'* as he 
insolently called the people of England, he would 
set them to dig holes one day and fill them up 
the next. I could tell him what to pla7it in the 
holes, so as to benefit the country in an immense 
degree ; but, like the human body in some 
complaints, the nation would now be really in- 
jured by the communications of what, if it were 
in a healthy state, would do it good, add to its 
strength, and to all its means of exertion. 



CHAP. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 163 

121. To return from this digression, I am 
afraid of 7io bad seasons. The droughty which is 
the great enemy to be dreaded in this country, 
I am quite prepared for. Give me ground that 
I can plough ten or twelve inches deep, and give 
nie Indian corn spaces to plough in, and no sun 
can burn me up. I have mentioned Mr. CuR- 
WEN's experiment before ; or, rather TULt's ; 
for he it is, who made all the discoveries of this 
kind. Let any man, just to try, leave half a 
rod of ground undug from the month of May to 
that of October 5 and another half rod let him 
dig and break Jine every ten or fifteen days. 
Then, whenever there has been fifteen days of 
good scorching sun, let him go and dig a hole 
in each. If he does not find the hard ground 
dry as dust, and the other moist s then let him 
say, that I know nothing about these matters. 
So erroneous is the common notion, that plough- 
ing in dry weather lets in the drought ! 

122. Of course, proceeding upon this fact, 
which 1 state as the result of numerous experi- 
ments, I should, if visited with long droughts, 
give one or two additional ploughings between 
the crops when growing. That is all ; and, 
with this, in Long Island, I defy all droughts. 

123. But, why need I insist upon this effect 
of ploughing in dry weather ? Why need I in- 
sist on it in an Indian corn country ? Who has 
not seen fields of Indian corn looking, to-day, 

M 2 



164 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [PART I. 

yellow and sickly, and, in four days hence (the 
weather being dry all the while), looking green 
and flourishing; and this wonderful effect pro- 
duced merely by the plough ? Why, then, 
should not the same effect always proceed from 
the same cause? The deeper you plough, the 
greater the effect, however ; for there is a greater 
body of earth to exhale from, and to receive 
back the tribute of the atmosphere, Mr. CUR- 
WEN tells us of a piece of cattle-cabbages. In a 
vevy dry time in July, they looked so yellow and 
blue, that he almost despaired of them. He sent 
in his ploughs; and a gentleman, who had seen 
them when the ploughs went in on the Monday, 
could scarcely believe his eyes when he saw them 
on the next Saturday, though it had continued 
dry all the week. 

124. To perform these summer ploughings, in 
this island, is really uothing. The earth is so 
light and in such fine order, and so easily dis- 
placed and replaced. I used one horse for the 
purpose, last summer, and a very slight horse 
indeed. An ox is, however, better for this work ; 
and this may be accomplished by the use of a 
collar and two traces, or by a single yoke and two 
traces. TuLL recommends the latter; and I 
shall try it for Indian corn as well as for turnips.* 

♦ Since the above paragraph was written, 1 have made a 
single- ox-yoke ; and, I find it answer excellently well. Now, 
Hiy work is much shortened ; for, in forming ridges, two oxen 



CHAP. II. J RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 165 

Horses, if they are strong enough, are not so 
steady as oxen, which are more patient also, and 
with which you may send the plough-share doivn 

are awkward. They occupy a wide space, and one of them is 
obliged to walk upon the ploughed land, which, besides making 
the ridge uneven at top, presses the ground, which is injurious. 
For ploughing between the rows of turnips and Indian corn 
also, what a great convenience this will be I An ox goes 
steadier than a horse, and will plough deeper^ without fretting 
and without tearing ; and he wants neither harness-maker nor 
groom. The plan of ray yoke I took from Tull. I showed it 
to my workman, who chopped off the limb of a tree, and made 
the yoke in an hour. It is a piece of wood, with two holes to 
receive two ropes, about three quarters of an inch in diameter. 
These traces are fastened into the yoke merely by a knot, whith 
prevents the ends from passing through the holes, while the 
other ends are fastened to the two ends of a Wiffle-tree^ as it is 
called in Long Island, of a JVipple-lree as it is called in Kent, 
and of a JVippance^ as it is called in Hampshire. I am but a 
poor draftsman; but, if the printer can find any thing to make 
the representation with, the following draft will clearly show 
what I have meant to describe in words — 

Saj . 




When the corn (Indian) and turnips get to a size, sufficient 
to attract the appetite of the ox, you have only to put on a 
muzzle. This is what Mr. Tull did; for, though we ought 
not to muzzle the ox " as he treadeth out the corn," we may do 
it, even for his own sake, amongst other considerations, when 
he is assisting us to bring the crop to perfection. 



166 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [PART 1. 

without any of the fretting and unequal pulling, 
or jerking, that you have to encounter with 
horses. And, as to the slow pace of the ox, it is 
the old story of the tortoise and the hare. If I 
had known, in England, of the use of oxen, 
what I have been taught upon Long Island, I 
might have saved myself some hundreds of 
pounds a year. I ought to have followed TULL 
in this as in all other parts of his manner of cul- 
tivating land. But, in our country, it is difficult 
to get a ploughman to look at an ox. In this 
Island the thing is done so completely and so 
easily, that it was, to me, quite wonderful to be- 
hold. To see one of these Long-Islanders going 
into the field, or orchard, at sun-rise, with his 
yoke in his hand, call his oxen by name to come 
and put their necks under the yoke, drive them 
before him to the plough, just hitch a hook on 
to the ring of the yoke, and then, without any 
thing except a single chain and the yoke, with no 
reins, no halter, no traces, no bridle, no driver, 
set to plough, and plough a good acre and a half 
in the day. To see this would make an English 
farmer stare ; and well it might, when he looked 
back to the ceremonious and expensive business 
of keeping and managing a plough-team in 
England. 

125. These are the means, which I would, 
and which I shall use, to protect my crops 
against the effects of a dry season. So that, as 



CHAP. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 167 

every one has the same means at his command, 
no one need be afraid of drought. It is a bright 
plough-share that is always wanted much more 
than the showers. With this culture there is no 
fear of a crop ; and though it amount to only 
five hundred bushels on an acre, what crop is 
half so valuable. 

1^6. The bulk of crop, however, in the broad- 
cast, or random method, may be materially af- 
fected by drought; for in that case, the plough 
cannot come to supply the place of showers. 
The ground there will be dry, and keep dry in a 
dry time ; as in the case of the supposed half rod 
of undug ground in the garden. The weeds, too, 
will come and help by their roots, to suck the 
moisture out of the ground. As to the ha?id- 
hoeingSy they may keep down weeds to be sure, 
and they raise a trifling portion of exhalation ; 
but, it is trifling indeed. Dry weather, if of 
long continuation, makes the leaves become of a 
bluish colour ; and, when this is once the case, 
all the rain and all the fine weather in the world 
will never make the crop a good one ; because 
the plough cannot move amidst this scene of 
endless irregularity. This is one of the chief 
reasons why the ridge method is best. 

Uses of, and Mode of applying, the Crop. 

127. It is harder to say what uses this root 
may not be put to, than what uses it may be 



168 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [PART I. 

put to, in the feeding of animals. It is eaten 
greedily by sheep, horn-cattle, and hogs, in its 
raw state. Boiled, or steamed (which is better), 
no dog that I ever saw will refuse it. Poultry 
of all sorts will live upon it in its cooked state. 
Some dogs will even eat it raw; a fact that 1 
first became acquainted with by perceiving my 
Shepherd's dog eating in the field along with the 
sheep. I have two Spa?iiels that come into the 
barn and eat it now ; and yet they are both in 
fine condition. Some horses will nearly live 
upon it in the raw state; others are not so fond 
of it. 

128. Let me give an account of what I am 
doing now (in the month of April) with my 
crop. 

129. It is not pretended, that this root, mea- 
sure for measure, is equal to Indian corn in the 
ear. Therefore, as I can get Indian corn in the 
ear for half a dollar a bushel, and, as I sell my 
Ruta Baga for half a dollar a bushel at New 
York, I am very sparing of the use of the latter 
for animals. Indeed, I use none at home, ex- 
cept such as have been injured, as above-men- 
tioned, by the delay in the harvesting. These 
damaged roots I apply in the following manner. 

130. Twice a day I take about two bushels, 
and scatter them about upon the grass for fifteen 
ewes with their lambs, and a few wether sheep, 
and for seven stout store pigs, which eat with 



CHAP. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. l69 

them. Once a day I fling out a parcel of the 
refuse that have been cut from the roots sent to 
market, along with cabbage leaves and stems, 
parsnips, fibres, and the like. Here the working 
oxen, hogs, cows, sheep, and fowls, all feed as 
they please. All these animals are in excellent 
condition. The cow has no other' foodj the 
working oxen a lock of hay twice a day; the 
ewes an ear of Indian corn each ; the pigs no- 
thing but the roots; the fowls and ducks and 
turkeys are never fed in any other way, though 
they know how to feed themselves whenever 
there is any thing good to be found above 
ground. 

131. I am zvea7iing some ip\gSf which, as every 
one knows, is an affair of milk and meal. I 
have neither. I give about three buckets of 
boiled Rata Baga to seven pigs every day, not 
having any convenience for steaming ; two baits 
of Indian corn in the ear. And, with this diet, 
increasing the quantity with the growth of the 
pigs, I expect to turn them out of the sty 
fatter (if that be possible) than they entered it. 
Now, if this be sOy every farmer will say, that 
this is what never was done before in x4merica. 
We all know how important a thing it is to 
zvean a pig icell. Any body can wean them 
without milk and meal ; but, then, the pigs are 
good for nothing. They remain three months 
afterwatds and never grow an inch 3 and they 



(17iO . RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [PART I. 

are, indeed, not worth having. To have milk, 
you must have cowsy and cows are vast con- 
sumers ! To have cows, you must have female 
labour, which, in America, is a very precious 
commodity. You cannot have 7neal without 
sharing in kind pretty liberally with the miller, 
besides bestowing labour, however busy you may 
be, to carry the corn to mill and bring the meal 
back. I am, however, speaking here of the 
pigs from my English breed; though I am far 
from supposing that the common pigs might not 
be weaned in the same way. 

132. Sows loith young pigs I feed thus : boiled 
Ruta Baga twice a day. About three ears of 
Indian corn a piece twice a day. As much offal 
Ruta Baga raw as they will eat. Amongst this 
boiled Ruta Baga, the pot-liquor of the house 
goes, of course ; but, then, the dogs, I dare say, 
take care that the best shall fall to their lot; 
and as there are four of them pretty fat, their 
share cannot be very small. Every one knows 
what good food, how much meal and milk are 
necessary to sows which have pigs. I have no 
milk, for my cow has not yet calved. And, 
then, what a chance concern this is ; for, the 
sows may perversely have pigs at the time 
when the cows do not please to give milk j or, ra- 
ther, when they, poor things, without any fault 
of theirs, are permitted to go dry, which never 
need be, and never ought to be the case. I had 



CHAP. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 171 

a COW once that made more than two pounds 
of butter during the week, and had a calf on 
the Saturday night. Cows always ought to be 
milked to the very day of their calving, and 
during the whole time of their suckling their 
calves. But, " sufficient unto the day is the 
" evil thereof." Let us leave this matter till 
another time. Having, however, accidentally 
mentioned cows, I will just observe, that in the 
little publication of Mr. Cramp, mentioned 
above, as having been printed by the Board of 
Agriculture, it was stated and the proof given, 
that his single cow gave him, clear profit, for 
several successive years, more than fifty pounds 
sterling a year, or upwards of two hundred and 
twenty dollars. This was clear profit ; reckoning 
the food and labour, and taking credit for the 
calf, the butter, and for the skim-milk at a 
penny a quart only. Mr. Cramp's was a Sussex 
cow. Mine were of the Alderney breed. Little 
small-boned things ; but, two of my cows, fed 
upon three quarters of an acre of grass ground, 
in the middle of my shrubbery, and fastened to 
pins in the ground, which were shifted twice a 
day, made three hundred pounds of butter from 
the 28th of March to the S7th of June. This is 
a finer country for cattle than England ; and 
yet, what do 1 see ! 

133. This difficulty about feeding sows with 
young pigs and weaning pigs, is one of the 



17S ^ RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [PART I. 

greatest hindrances to improvement j for, after 
all, what animal produces flesh meat like the 
hog ? Applicable to all uses, either fresh or 
salted, is the meat. Good in all its various 
shapes. The animal killable at all ages. 
Quickly fatted. Good if half fat. Capable of 
supporting an immense burden of fat. Demand- 
ing but little space for its accommodation ; and 
yet, if grain and corn and milk are to be their 
principal food, during their lives, they cannot 
multiply very fastj because many upon a farm 
cannot be kept to much profit. But, if, by pro- 
viding a sufficiency of Ruta Baga, a hundred 
pigs could be raised upon a farm in a year, and 
carried on till fatting time, they would be worth, 
when ready to go into the fatting sty, fifteen 
dollars each. This would be something worth 
attending to ; and the farm must become rich 
from the manure. The Ruta Baga, taken out 
of the heaps early in April, will keep well and 
.sound all the summer; and with a run in an 
orchard, or in a grassy place, it will keep a good 
sort of hog always in a very thriving, and even 
fleshy state. 

134. This root, being called a turnip, is re- 
garded as a turnipy as a common turnip, than 
which nothing can be much less resembling it. 
The common turnip is a very poor thing. The 
poorest of all the roots of the bulb kind, cul- 
tivated in the fields 3 and the Ruta Baga, all 



CHAP. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. i?^ 

taken together, is, perhaps, the very best. It 
loses none of its good qualities by being long 
kept, though dry all the while. A neighbour 
of mine in Hampshire, having saved a large 
piece of Ruta Baga for seed, and having, after 
harvesting the seed, accidentally thrown some 
of the roots into his yard, saw his hogs eat 
these old roots, which had borne the seed. He 
gave them some more, and saw that they ate 
them greedily. He, therefore, went and bought 
a whole drove, in number about forty, of lean 
pigs, of a good large size, brought them into 
his yard, carted in the roots of his seed Ruta 
Baga, and, without having given the pigs a 
handful of any other sort of food, sold out his 
pigs as fat porkers. And, indeed, it is a fact 
well known, that sheep and cattle, as well as 
hogs, will thrive upon this root after it has borne 
seed, which is what, I believe, can be said of no 
other root or plant. 

135. When we feed off our Ruta Baga in the 
fields, in England, by sheep, there are small 
parts left by the sheep : the shells which they 
have left after scooping out the pulp of the bulb; 
the tap-root; and other little bits. These are 
picked out of the ground , and when washed 
by the rain, other sheep follow and live upon 
them. Or, in default of other sheep, hogs or 
cattle are turned in in dry weather, and they 
leave not a morsel. 



174 RUTA B-IGA CULTURE. [PART I. 

136. Nor are the greens to be forgotten. In 
England, they are generally eaten by the sheep, 
when they are turned in upon them. When the 
roots are taken up for uses at the home-stead, 
the greens are given to store-pigs and lean cattle. 
I cut mine off, while the roots were in the 
ground, and gave them to fatting cattle upon 
grass land, alternately with Indian corn in the 
ear ; and, in this way, they ,are easily and most 
profitably applied, and they come, too, just 
after the grass is gone from the pastures. An 
acre produces about four good waggon loads of 
greens ; and they are taken off fresh and fresh 
as they are wanted, and, at the same time, the 
roots are thus made ready for going at once, into 
the heaps. Pigs, sheep, cattle ; all like the 
greens as well as they do the roots. Try any of 
them with the greens of zvhite turnips ^ and, if 
they touch them, they will have changed their 
natures, or, at least, their tastes. 

137. The Mangel Wurzel, the cabbage, the 
carrot, and the parsnip, are all useful ; and 
the latter, that is to say, the parsnip, very valu- 
able indeed ; but the main cattle-crop is the 
Ruta Baga. Even the white turnip, if well cul- 
tivated, may be of great use ; and, as it admits 
of being sown later, it may often be very de- 
sirable to raise it. But, reserving myself to 
speak fully, in a future part of my work, of my 
experiments as to these crops, I shall now make 



CHAP. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 175 

a short inquiry as to the value of a crop of 
Ruta Baga, compared with the value of any 
other crop. I will just observe, in this place, 
however, that I have grown finer carrots, par- 
snips, and Mangel Wurzel, and even finer cab- 
bages, than I ever grew upon the richest land 
in Hampshire, though not a seed of any of 
them was put into the ground till the month of 
June. 

138. A good mode, it appears to me, of mak- 
ing my proposed comparative estimate, will be 
to say, how I zvould proceed^ supposing me to 
have a farm of my own in this island, of only 
one hundred acres. If there were not twelve 
acres of orchard near the house, I would throw 
as much grass land to the orchard as would 
make up the twelve acres, which I could fence 
in an effectual manner against small pigs as well 
as large oxen. 

139. Having done this, I would take care to 
have fifteen acres of good Indian corn, well 
planted, well suckered, and well tilled in all 
respects. Good, deep ploughing between the 
plants would give me forty bushels of shelled 
corn to an acre; and a ton to the acre of fod- 
der for my four working oxen and three cows, 
and my sheep and hogs, of which 1 shall speak 
presently. 

140. I would have twelve acres of Ruta Baga, 
three acres of early cabbages, an acre of Mangel 



176 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [PART I. 

Wurzel, an acre of carrots and parsnips, and as 
many white turnips as would grow between my 
rows of Indian corn after my last ploughing of 
that crop. 

141. With these crops, which would occupy 
thirty-two acres of ground, I should not fear 
being able to keep a good house in all sorts of 
meat, together with butter and milk, and to 
send to market nine quarters of beef and three 
hides, a hundred early fat lambs, a hundred 
hogs, weighing twelve score, as we call it in 
Hampshire, or, two hundred and forty pounds 
each, and a hundred fat ewes. These, altoge- 
ther, would amount to about three thousand 
dollars, exclusive of the cost of a hundred ewes 
and of three oxen ; I should hope, that the pro- 
duce of my trees in the orchard and of the other 
fifty-six acres of my farm would pay the rent 
and the labour ; for, as to taxes, the amount is 
not worth naming, especially after the sublime 
spectacle of that sort, which the world beholds 
in England. 

142. I am, you will perceive, not making any 
account of the price of Ruta Baga, cabbages, 
carrots, parsnips, and white turnips at Nezv 
York, or any other market. I ?wzvy indeed, sell 
carrots and parsnips at three quarters of a dollar 
the hundred J by tale ; cabbages (of last fall) at 
about three dollars a hundred, and white turnips 
at a quarter of a dollar a bushel. When this can 



CHAP. 11.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 177 

be done, and the distance is within twenty or 
thirty miles on the best road in the world, it 
will, of course, be done; but, my calculations 
are built upon a supposed consumption of the 
whole upon the farm by animals of one sort or 
another. 

14y. My feeding would be nearly as follows. 
I will begin with February ; for, until then, the 
Ruta Baga does not come to its sweetest taste. 
It is like an apple, that must have time to ripen; 
but, then, it retains its goodness much longer. 
I have proved, and especially in the feeding of 
hogs, that the Ruta Baga is never so good, till it 
arrives at a mature state. In February, and 
about the first of that month, I should begin 
bringing in my Ruta Baga, in the manner be- 
fore described. My three oxen, which would 
have been brought forward by other food, to be 
spoken of by and by, would be tied up in a stall 
looking into one of those fine commodious 
barn's floors which we have upon this island. 
Their stall should be warm, and they should be 
kept well littered, and cleaned out frequently. 
The Ruta Baga just chopped into large pieces 
with a spade or shovel, and tossed into the man- 
ger to the oxen at the rate of about two bushels 
a day to each ox, would make them completely 
fat, without the aid of corn, hay, or any other 
thing. I should, probably, kill one ox at Christ- 
mas, and, in that case, he must have had a 

N 



178 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [PART I. 

longer time than the others upon other food. 
If 1 killed one of the two remaining oxen in the 
middle of March, and the other on the first of 
May, they would consume 9,6(> bushels of Ruta 
Baga. 

144. My hundred ewes would begin upon 
Ruta Baga at the same time, and, as my grass 
ground would be only twelve acres until after 
hay-time, I shall suppose them to be fed on this 
root till July, and they will always eat it and 
thrive upon it. They will eat about eight pounds 
each, a day ; so that, for 150 days it would re- 
quire a hundred and twenty thousand pounds 
weight, or two thousand four hundred bushels. 

145. Fourteen breeding sows to be kept all 
the year round, would bring a hundred pigs in 
the Spring, and they and their pigs would, 
during the same 150 days, consume much about 
the same quantity ; for, though the pigs would 
be small during these 150 days, yet they eat a 
great deal more than sheep in proportion to 
their size, or rather bulk. However, as they 
would eat very little during the first 60 days of 
their age, I have rather over- rated their con- 
sumption. 

146. Three cows and four working oxen 
would, during the 150 days, consume about one 
thousand bushels, which, indeed, would be more 
than sufficient, because, during a great part of 
the time, they would more than half live upon 



CHAP. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 179 

corn-stalks J and, indeed, this, to a certain ex- 
tent, would be the case with the sheep. How- 
ever, as I mean that every thing should be of 
a good size, and live ivell, I make ample pro- 
vision. 

14,7. I should want, then, to vdSsefive hundred 
bushels of Ruta Baga upon each of my twelve 
acres J and why should 1 not do it, seeing that I 
have this year raised six hundred and forty 
bushels upon an acre, under circumstances such 
as I have stated them ? I lay it down, therefore, 
that, with a culture as good as that of Indian 
corn, any man may, on this island (where corn 
will grow) have 500 bushels to the acre. 

148. I am now come to the first of July. My 
oxen are fatted and disposed of. My lambs 
are gone to market, the last of them a month 
ago. My pigs are weaned and of a good size. 
And now my Ruta Baga is gone. But my 
ewes, kept well through the winter, will soon be 
fat upon the 12 acres of orchard and the hay- 
ground, aided by my three acres of early cab- 
bages, which are now fit to begin cutting, or, 
rather, pulling up. The weight of this crop 
may be made very great indeed. Ten thousand 
plants will stand upon an acre, \x\ four feet ridges , 
and every plant ought to weigh three pounds at 
least. I have shown before how advantageously 
Ruta Baga transplanted would follow these cab- 
bages, all through the months of July and 



180 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [PART I. 

August. But what a crop of Buck-wheat would 
follow such of the cabbages as came off in July / 
My cabbages, together with my hay-fields and 
grain-fields after harvest, and about forty or fifty 
waggon -loads of Ruta Baga greens, would carry 
me along well till December (the cabbages being 
planted at different times) ; for, my ewes would 
be sold fat in July, and my pigs would be only 
increasing in demand for food; and the new 
hundred ewes need not, and ought not, to be 
kept so well as if they were fatting, or had lambs 
by their side. 

149. From the first of December to the first 
of February, Mangel Wurzel and white turnips 
would keep the sheep and cattle and breeding 
sows plentifully ; for the latter will live well upon 
Mangel Wurzel; and my hundred hogs, in- 
tended for fatting, would be much more than 
halfidX upon the carrots and parsnips. I should, 
however, more probably keep m}'^ parsnips till 
Spring, and mix the feeding with carrots with 
the feeding with corn, for the first month or fif- 
teen days, with regard to the fatting hogs. None 
of these hogs would require more than three 
bushels of corn each to finish them completely. 
My other three hundred bushels would be for 
sows giving suck; the ewes, now and then in 
wet weather ; and for other occasional purposes, 

150. Thus all my hay and oats^ and zvheat and 
rye might be sold, leaving me the straw for lit- 



CHAP. II.J RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 181 

ter. These, surely, would pay the rent and the 
labour; and, if I am told, that I have taken no 
account of the mutton, and lamb, and pork, that 
my house would demand, neither have I taken 
any account of a hundred summer pigs, which 
the fourteen sows would have, and which would 
hardly fail to bring two hundred dollars. Poul- 
try demand some food; but three parts of their 
raising consists of care ; and, if 1 had nobody 
in my house to bestow this care, I should, of 
course, have the less number of mouths to 
feed. 

151. But, my horses ! Will not they swallow 
my hay and my oats? No: for I want no 
horses. But, am I never to take a ride then ? 
Aye, but, if I do, I have no right to lay the ex- 
pence of it to the account of the farm. I am 
speaking of how a man may live by and upon a 
farm. If a merchant spend a thousand a year, 
and gain a thousand, does he say, that his traffic 
has gained him nothing.^ When men lose 
money by farmings as they call it, they forget, 
that it is not the farming, but other expences 
that take away their money. It is, in fact, they 
that rob the farm, and not the farm them. 
Horses may be kept for the purposes of going to 
church, or to meeting, or to pay visits. In 
many cases this may be not only convenient, 
but necessary, to a family ; but, upon this 



182 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [PART I. 

Island, I am very sure, that it is neither conve- 
nient nor necessary to a farm. " What!" the 
ladies will say, " would you have us to be shut 
" up at home all our lives j or be dragged about 
" by oxen ?" By no means j not I ! I should 
be very sorry to be thought the author of any 
such advice. 1 have no sort of objection to the 
keeping of horses upon a farm ; but, I do insist 
upon it, that all the food and manual labour 
required by such horses, ought to be considered 
as so much taken from the clear profits of the 
farm. 

152. I have made sheep, and particularly 
lambsy B. part of my supposed stock ; but, I do 
not know, that I should keep any beyond what 
might be useful for my house. Hogs are the 
most profitable stock, if you have a large quan- 
tity of the food that they will t/uive on. They 
are /oi^/ feeders ; but, they will eat nothing that 
is poor in its nature j that is to say, they will 
not thrive on it. They are the most able tasters 
in all the creation; and, that which they like 
best, you may be quite sure has the greatest 
proportion of nutritious matter in it, from a 
white turnip to a piece of beef. They will pre- 
fer meat to corn, and cooked meat to raw ; they 
will leave parsnips for corn or grain ; they will 
leave carrots for parsnips ; they will leave Ruta 
Baga for carrots; they will leave cabbages for 



CHAP, ir.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 183 

Ruta Baga; they will leave Mangel Wurzel for 
cabbages ; they will leave potatoes (both being 
raw) for Mangel Wurzel. A white turnip they 
will not touch, unless they be on the point of 
starving. They are the best of triers. What- 
ever they prefer is sure to be the richest thing 
within their reach. The parsnip is, by many 
degrees, the richest root; but, the seed lies long 
in the ground ; the sowing and after-culture are 
works of great niceness. The crop is large with 
good cultivation ; but, as a main crop, I prefer 
the Ruta Baga, of which the crop is immense, 
and the harvesting, and preserving, and applica- 
tion of which, are so easy. 

153. The farm I suppose to be in fair condi- 
tion to start with ; the usual grass-seeds sown, 
and so forth ; and every farmer will see, that, 
under my system, it must soon become rich as 
any garden need to be, without my sending men 
and horses to the water-side to fetch ashes, 
which have been brought from Boston or Charles- 
ton, an average distance of seven hundred 
miles ! In short, my stock would give me, in 
one shape or another, manure to the amount, in 
utility, of more than a thousand tons weight a 
year of common yard manure. This would be 
ten tons to an acre every year. The farm 
would, in this way, become more and more 
productive; and, as to its being too rich, I see 



184 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [PART I. 

no danger of that ; for a broad-cast crop of wheat 
will, at any time, tame it pretty sufficiently. 

154. Very much, in my opinion, do those 
mistake the matter, who strive to get a great 
breadth of land, with the idea, that, when they 
have tried one field, they can let it lie, and go 
to another. It is better to have one acre of 
good crop, than two of bad or indifferent. If 
the one acre can by double the manure and 
double the labour in tillage, be made to produce 
as much as two other acres, the one acre is pre- 
ferable, because it requires only half as much 
fencing, and little more than half as much har- 
vesting, as two acres. There is many a ten 
acres of land near London, that produces more 
than any common farm of two hundred acres. 
My garden of three quarters of an acre^ pro- 
duced more, in value, last Summer, from June 
to December, than any ten acres of oat land 
upon Long Island, though I there saw as fine 
fields of oats as I ever saw in my life. A heavy 
crop upon all the ground that I put a plough 
into is what I should seek, rather than to have a 
great quantity of land. 

155. The business of carting manure from a 
distance can, in very iew, if any cases, answer 
a profitable purpose. If any man would give 
me even horse-dung at the stable-door, four 
miles from my land, I would not accept of it. 



CHAP. II.] RUTA BAGA CULTURE. 185 

on condition of fetching it. I say the same of 
spent ashes. To manure a field of ten acres, in 
this way, a man and two horses must be em- 
ployed twenty days at least, with twenty days' 
wear and tear of waggon and tackle. Two oxen 
and two men do the business in two days, if the 
manure be on the spot. 

156. In concluding my remarks on the sub- 
ject of Ruta Baga, I have to apologize for the 
desultory manner in which I have treated the 
matter ; but, 1 have put the thoughts down as 
they occurred to me, without much time for 
arrangement, wishing very much to get this first 
Part into the hands of the public before the 
arrival of the time for sowing Ruta Baga this 
present year. In the succeeding Parts of the 
work, I propose to treat of the culture of every 
other plant that I have found to be of use upon 
a farm ; and also to speak fully of the sorts of 
cattle, sheep, and hogs, particularly the latter. 
My experiments are now going on ; and, I shall 
only have to communicate the result, which I 
shall do very faithfully, and with as much clear- 
ness as I am able. In the mean while, I shall 
be glad to afford any opportunity, to any per- 
sons who may think it worth while to come to 
Hyde Park, of seeing how I proceed. I have 
just now (17th April) planted out my Ruta 
Baga, Cabbages, Mangel Wurzel, Onions, Par- 
snips, &c. for seed. 1 shall begin my earth- 

O 



186 RUTA BAGA CULTURE. [PART I. 

burfiwg in about fifteen days. In short, being 
convinced, that I am able to communicate very 
valuable improvements ; and not knowing how 
short, or how long, my stay in America may be, 
I wish very much to leave behind me whatever 
of good I am able, in return for the protection, 
which America has afforded me against the fangs 
of the Boroughmongers of England ; to which 
country, however, I always bear affection, which 
I cannot feel towards any other in the same de- 
gree, and the prosperity and honour of which I 
shall, I hope, never cease to prefer before the 
gratification of all private pleasures and emolu- 
ments. 



END 

Of the Treatise on Rula Baga, 

AND OF PART I. 



John M'Creery, Printer, 
Slack Horse-Court, Fleet-Street. 



YEAR'S RESIDENCE, 



IN THE 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



Treating of the Face of the Country, the Climate, the Soil, 
the Products, the Mode of Cultivating the Land, the Prices 
of Land, of Labour, of Food, of Raiment ; of the Expenses 
of Housekeeping, and of the usual manner of Living ; of 
the Manners, Customs, and Character of the People ; and 
of the Government, Laws, and Religion. 

IN THREE PARTS. 



By WILLIAM COBBETT. 



PART II. 

Containing, — HL Experiments as to Cabbages. — IV. Earth- 
burning. — V. Transplanting Indian Corn. — "VI. Swedish 
Turnips. — VII. Potatoes. — VIII. Cows, Sheep, Hogs, and 
Poultry. — IX. Prices of Land, Labour, Working Cattle, 
Husbandry Implements. — X. Expenses of Housekeeping. — 

XI. Manners, Customs, and Character of the People. — 

XII. Rural Sports. — XIII. Paupers and Beggars. — 
XIV. Government, Laws, and Religion. 



LONDON: 

PRINTED FOR SHERWOOD, NEELY AND JONES, 
PATERNOSTER-ROW. 

1819. 



[Cnteteu at g^tationets' ©all; 



Jolin M'Creery, Printer, 
Black-IIorse-Ck)urt, Loodon. 



CONTENTS OF PART IT. 



Page 

Dedication . . . ; 193 

Preface I95 

Chap, III. Experiments as to Cabbages . . , . . 203 

IV. Earth-burning 230 

V. Transplanting Indian Corn ...... 242 

VI. Swedish Turnips 252 

VII. Potatoes 375 

VIII. Cows, Sheep, Hogs, and Poultry . . . 303 

IX. Prices of Land, Labour, Working Cattle, 

Husbandry Implements 318 

Chap. X. Expences of Housekeeping 329 

XL Manners, Customs, and Character of the 

People 344 

Chap. XII. Rural Sports 354 

XIII, Paupers and Beggars 377 

XIV. Government, Laws, and Religion . . .388 



DEDICATION 



Mr! RICHARD HINXMAN 



OF CHILLING IN HAMPSHIRE. 



North Heinpstead, Long Island, 
\5th Nov. 1818. 
MY DEAR SIR, 

The following little volume will give you some 
account of my agricultural proceedings in this 
fine and well-governed country; and, it will 
also enable you to see clearly how favourable 
an absence of grinding taxation and tithes is to 
the farmer. You have already paid to Fund- 
holders, Standing Armies, and Priests, more 
money than would make a decent fortune for 
two children; and, if the present system were 
to continue to the end of your natural life, you 
would pay more to support the idle and the 
worthless, than would maintain, during the 
same space of time, ten labourers and their 
families. The profits of your capital, care , and 
skill are pawned by the Boroughmongers to 

Q 



192 DEDICATION. 

pay the interest of a Debt, which they have 
contracted for their own purposes ; a Debt, 
which never can, by ages of toil and of suffer- 
ings, on the part of the people, be either paid 
off or diminished. But, 1 trust, that deliver- 
ance from this worse than Egyptian bondage is 
now near at hand. The atrocious tyranny does 
but stagger along. At every step it discovers 
fresh proofs of impotence. It must come down ; 
and when it is down, we shall not have to envy 
the farmers of America, or of any country in 
the ^vorld. 

When you reflect on the blackguard conduct 
of the Parsons at Winchester, on the day w^ien 
1 last had the pleasure to see you and our ex- 
cellent friend Goldsmith, you will rejoice to 
find, that, throughout the whole of this exten- 
sive country, there exists not one single animal 
of that description ; so that we can here keep 
as many cows, sows, ewes and hens as we 
please, with the certainty, that no prying, 
greedy Parson will come to eat up a part of 
the young ones. How long shall we English- 
men suffer our cow-stalls, our styes, our folds 
and our hen-roosts to be the prey of this prowl- 
ing pest? 

In many parts of the following pages you 
will trace the remarks and opinions back to 
conversations that have passed between us, 
many times in Hampshire. In the making of 



DEDICATION. 193 

them my mind has been brought back to the 
feelings of those days. The certainty, that I 
shall always be beloved by you constitutes one 
of the greatest pleasures of my life ; and I am 
sure, that you want nothing to convince you, 
that I am unchangeably 

Your faithful and affectionate friend, 

Wm. cobbett 



q2 



PREFACE 



TO THE 



SECOND PART. 



157. In the First Part I adopted the mode of 
numbering the paragraphs, a mode which I 
shall pursue to the end of the work; and, as 
the whole work may, at the choice of the pur- 
chaser, be bound up in one volume, or remain 
in two volumes, I have thought it best to re- 
sume the numbering at the point where I 
stopped at the close of the First Part. The 
last paragraph of that Part was 156: I, there- 
fore, now begin with 157. For the same reason 
I have, in the Second Part, resumed the paging 
at the point where 1 stopped in the First Part. 
I left off at page 186; find, I begin with 187. 
I have, in like manner, resumed the chaptering: 
so that, when the two volumes are put toge- 
ther, they will, as to these matters, form but 
one ; and those, who may have purchased the 
volumes separately, will possess the same book, 
in all respects, as those, who shall purchase 
the Three Parts in one Volume. 



196 PREFACE TO THE SECOND PART. 

158. Paragraph 1. (Part I.) contains my rea- 
sons for numbering the paragraphs, but, be- 
sides the reasons there stated, there is one, 
which did not then occur to me, and which 
was left to be suggested by experience, of a 
description which I did not then anticipate; 
namely, that, in the case of more than one 
edition, the paging may, and generally does, 
differ in such manner as to bring the matter, 
which, in one edition, is under any given page, 
under a different page in another edition. This 
renders the work of reference very laborious at 
best, and, in many cases, it defeats its object. 
If the paragraphs of Blackstone's Commen- 
taries had been numbered, how much valu- 
able time it would have saved. I am now 
about to send a second edition of the First 
Part of this work to the press. I am quite 
careless about the paging: that is to say, so 
that the whole be comprized within the 134 
pages, it is of no consequence whether the mat- 
ter take, with respect to the pages, precisely the 
same situation that it took before; and, if the 
paging were not intended to join on to that of 
the present volume, it would be no matter 
what were the number of pages upon the 
whole. I hope, that these reasons will be suf- 
ficient to convince the reader that I have not, 
in this case, been actuated by a love of sin- 



PREFACE TO THE SECOND PART. 197 

gularity. We live to learn, and to make im- 
provements, and every improvement must, at 
first, be a singularity. 

159. The utility, which I thought would arise 
from the hastenmg out of the First Part, in 
June last, previous to the time for sowing 
Swedish Turnips, induced me to make an ugly 
breach in the order of my little work ; and, as 
it generally happens, that when disorder is 
once begun, it is very difficult to restore order ; 
so, in this case, I have been exceedingly puzzled 
to give to the matter of these two last Parts 
such an arrangement as should be worthy of a 
work, which, whatever may be the character of 
its execution, treats of subjects of great public 
interest. However, with the help of the Index, 
which I shall subjoin to the Third Part, and 
which will comprise a reference to the divers 
matters in all the three parts, and in the making 
of which Index an additional proof of the ad- 
vantage of numbering the paragraphs has ap- 
peared ; with the help of this Index the reader 
will, I am in hopes, be enabled to overcome, with- 
out any very great trouble, the inconveniences 
naturally arising from a want of a perfectly good 
arrangement of the subjects of the work. 

160. As the First Part closes with a pro- 
mise to communicate the result of my experi- 
ments of this present year, T begin the Secqnd 



108 PREFACE TO THE SECOND PART. 

Pari with a fulfilment of that promise, parti- 
cularly with regard to i\\e procuring of manure 
hy the hurning of earth into ashes. 

161. I then proceed with the other matters 
named in the title ; and the Third Part I shall 
make to consist of an account of the Westerti 
CoMw^ne*, furnished in the Notes of Mr. Hulme, 
together with a view of the advantages and 
disadvantages of preferring, as a place to farm 
in, those Countries to the Countries bordering 
on the Atlantic; in which view I shall include 
such remarks as appear to me likely to be 
useful to those English Farmers, who can no 
longer bear the lash of Boroughmongering op- 
pression and insolence. 

162. Multifariousness is a great fault in a 
written work of any kind. I feel the consci- 
ousness of this fault upon this occasion. The 
facts and opinions relative to Swedish Turnips 
and Cabbages will be very apt to be enfeebled 
in their effect by those relating to manners, 
laws and religion. Matters so heterogeneous, 
the one class treated of in the detail and the 
other in the great, ought not to be squeezed to- 
gether between the boards of the same small 
volume. But, the fault is committed and it is 
too late to repine. There are, however, two 
subjects which I will treat of distinctly hereaf- 
teT.- Tlie first is that of Fencing, a subject 



PREFACE TO THE SECOND PART. 199 

which presses itself upon the attention of the 
American Farmer, but from which he turns 
with feelings like those, with which a losing 
tradesman turns from an examination of his 
books. But, attend to it he must before it be 
long ; or, his fields, in the populous parts of 
this Island at least, must lay waste, and his 
fuel must be brought him from Virginia or from 
England. Sometime before March next I shall 
publish an Essay on Feiicing. The form shall 
correspond with that of this work, in order 
that it may be bound up with it, if that should 
be thought desirable. The other subject is 
that of Gardening. This 1 propose to treat of 
in a small distinct volume, under some appro- 
priate title ; and, in this volume, to give alpha- 
helically, a description of all the plants, culti- 
vated for the use of the table and also of those 
cultivated as cattle food. To this description 
I shall add an account of their properties, 
and instructions for the cultivation of them in 
the best manner. It is not my intention to 
go beyond what is aptly enough called the 
Kitchen Garden ; but, as a hot-bed may be of 
such great use even to the farmer; and as 
ample materials for making beds of this sort 
are always at Ms command without any €a> 
pence, I shall endeavour to give plain direc- 
tions for the making and managing of a hot- 



200 PREFACE TO THE SECOND PART. 

bed. A bed of this sort, fifteen feet long, has 
given me, this year, the better part of an acre 
of fine cabbages to «iie to hogs in the parching 
month of Jult/. This is so very simple a mat- 
ter ; it is so very easy to learn ; that there is 
scarcely a farmer in America, who would not 
put the thing in practice, at once, with com- 
plete success. 

163. Let not my countrymen, who may ha[> 
pen to read this suppose, that these, or any 
other, pursuits will withdraw my attention 
from, or slacken my zeal in, that cause, which 
is common to us all. That cause claims, and 
has, my first attention and best exertion ; that 
is the business of my life: these other pursuits 
are my recreaiion. King Alfred allowed 
eight hours for recreation, in the twenty-four, 
eight for sleep, and eight for business. I do not 
take my allowance of the two former. 

164. Upon looking into the First Part, I see, 
that I expressed a hope to be able to give, in 
some part of this work, a sketch of the work 
of Mr. TuLL. 1 have looked at Tull, and I 
cannot bring my mind up to the commission of 
so horrid an act as that of garbling such a 
work. It was, perhaps, a feeling, such as that 
which I experience at this moment, which re- 
strained Mr. Cur WEN from even naming Tull, 
when he gave one of Tull's experiments to the 



PREFACE TO THE SECOND PART. 201 

world as a discovery of his own. Unable to 
screw himself up to commit a murder, he con- 
tented himself with a robbery ; an instance, he 
may, indeed, say, of singular moderation and 
self-denial ; especially when we consider of 
what an assembly he has, with little intermis- 
sion, been an " Honourable Member" for the 
last thirty years of his life. 

Wm. cobbett. 

North Hempstead, Long Island, 
I5th November, 1818. 



YEAR'S RESIDENCE, 



CHAP. HI. 

EXPERIMENTS, IN 1818, AS TO CABBAGES. 

Preliminary Remarks. 

165. At the time when I was writhig the 
First Part, I expected to be able to devote 
more time to my farming, during the summer, 
than I afterwards found that I could so de- 
vote without neglecting matters which I deem 
of greater importance. I was, indeed, obliged 
to leave the greater part of my out-door's busi- 
ness wholly to my men, merely telling them 
what to do. However, J attended to the things 
which I thought to be of the most importance. 
The field-culture of Carrots, Parsnips and 
Mangle Wurzle 1 did not attempt. I contented 
myself with a crop of Cabbages and of Ruta 
Baga and with experiments as to Earth-burn- 
ing and Transplanting Indian Corn. The sum- 
mer, and the fall also, have been remarkablij dry 
in Long Island^ much more dry than is usual. 



204 CABBAGES. [PART II. 

The grass has been very short indeed. A sort 
of Grass-hopper, or cricket, has eaten up a con- 
siderable part of tlie grass and of all vege- 
tables, the leaves of which have come since the 
month of June. I am glad, that this has been 
the case ; for I now know what a farmer may do 
in the worst of years; and, when 1 consider 
what the suuinjer has been, 1 look at my Cab- 
bages and Ruta Baga with surprize as well as 
with satisfaction. 



Cabbages. 

166. I had some hogs to keep, and, as my 
Swedish Turnips (Ruta Baga) would be gone 
by July, or before, 1 wished them to be suc- 
ceeded by cabbages. I made a hot-bed on the 
20^/* of March, which ought to have been 
made more than a month earlier; but, I had 
been in Pennsylvania, and did not return home 
till the \3th of March. Jt requires a little 
time to mix and turn the dung in order to 
prepare it for a hot-bed ; so that mine was not 
a very good one ; and then my frame was 
hastily patched up, and its covering consisted 
of some old broken sashes of windows. A 
very shabby concern ; but, in this bed I sowed 
cabbages and caulifloivers. The seed came up, 
and the plants, though standing too thick, 



CHAP. III.] CABBAGES. 205 

grew pretty well. From this bed, they would, 
if I had had time, been transplanted into ano- 
ther, at about two and a half or three inches 
apart. But, such as they were, very much 
drawn up, I began planting them out as soon 
as they were about four inches high. 

167. It was the \2th of May before they at- 
tained this height, and 1 then began planting 
them out in a piece of ground, pretty good, 
and deeply ploughed by oxen. My cauli- 
flowers, of which there were about three thou- 
sand, were too late to flower, which they never 
will do, unless the flower have begun to shew 
itself before the great heat comes. However, 
these plants grew very large, and afforded a 
great quantity of food for pigs. The outside 
leaves and stems were eaten by sows, store- 
pigs, a cow, and some oxen ; the hearts, which 
were very tender and nearly of the Cauliflower- 
taste, were boiled in a large cast-iron cal- 
dron, and, mixed with a little rye-meal, given 
to sows and young pigs. I should suppose, 
that these three thousand plants weighed 
twelve hundred pounds, and thej'^ stood upon 
about half an acre of land. I gave these to 
the animals early in July. 

J 68. The Cabbages, sown in the bed, con- 
sisted partly of Early Yorks, the seed of 
which had been sent me along with the Cauli- 



206 CABBAGES. [part II. 

flower seed, from England, and had reached 
me at Harrisburgh in Pennsylvania ; and partly 
of plants, the seed of which had been given 
me by Mr. James Paul, Senior, of Bustleton, 
as I was on my return home. And this gave 
me a pretty good opportunity of ascertaining-, 
the fact as to the degenerating of cabbage seed. 
Mr. Paul, who attended very minutely to all 
such matters ; who took great delight in his 
garden ; who was a reading as well as a praC' 
tical farmer, told me, when he gave me the 
seed, that it would not produce loaved cab- 
' bages so early as my own seed would ; for, 
that, though he had always selected the earliest 
heads for seed, the seed degenerated, and the 
cabbages regularly came to perfection later and 
later. He said, that he never should save cab- 
bage seed himself; but, that it was such 
chance-work to buy of seedsmen, that he 
thought it best to save some at any rate. In 
this case, all the plants from the English seed 
produced solid loaves by the 24th of June, 
while, from the plants of the Pennsylvania 
seed, we had not a single solid loaf till the 
28th of July, and, from the chief part of them, 
not till mid-August. 

169. This is a great matter. Not only have 
you the food earlier, and so much earlier, from 
the genuine seed, but your ground is occupied 



CHAP. III.] CABBAGES. 207 

SO much less time by the plants. The plants 
very soon shewed, by their appearance, what 
would be the result ; for, on the 2nd of June, 
Miss Sarah Paul, a daughter of Mr. James 
Paul, saw the plants, and while those from the 
English seed were even then beginning to loave, 
those from her father's seed were nothing more 
than bunches of wide spreading leaves, having 
no appearance of forming a head. However, 
they succeeded the plants from the English 
seed ; and, the whole, besides what were used 
in the House, were given to the animals. As 
many of the ivhile loaves as were wanted for 
the purpose were boiled for sows and small 
pigs, and the rest were given to lean pigs and 
the horn-cattle : and a fine resource they were ; 
for, so dry was the weather, and the devasta- 
tions of the grass-hoppers so great, that we had 
scarcely any grass in any part of the land ; 
and, if I had not had these cabbages, 1 must 
have resorted to Indian Corn, or Grain of some 
sort. 

170. But, these spring-cabbage plants were 
to be succeeded by others, to be eaten in Sep- 
tember and onwards to January. Therefore, 
on the 27th of May, I sowed in the natural 
ground eleven sorts of cabbages, some of the 
seed from England and some got from my 
friend, Mr. Paul. I have noticed the extreme 

R 



208 CABBAGES. [PART II. 

drought of the season. Nevertheless, I have 
now about two acres of cabbages of the follow- 
ing description. Half an acre of the Early 
Salisbury (earliest of all cabbages) and Early 
York; about 3 quarters of an acre of the 
Drum-head and other late cabbages; and about 
the same quantity of Green Savoys. The first 
class are fully loaved, and bursting : with these 
1 now feed my animals. These will be finished 
by the time that I cut off my Swedish Turnip 
Greens, as mentioned in Part 1. Paragraph 136. 
Then, about mid-December, I shall feed with 
the second class, the Drum-heads and other 
late Cabbages. Then, those which are not 
used before the hard frosts set in, T shall put 
up for use through the month of January. 

171. Aye! Put them up; but how? No 
scheme that industry or necessity ever sought 
after, or that experience ever suggested, with 
regard to the preserving of cabbages, did I 
leave untried last year ; and, in every scheme 
but one I found some inconvenience. Taking 
them up and replanting them closely in a slop- 
ing manner and covering them with straw ; 
putting them in pits; hanging them up in a 
barn; turning their heads downwards and 
covering them with earth, leaving the roots 
sticking up in the air : in short every scheme, 
except one, was attended with great labour, 



CHAP. III.] CABBAGES. 209 

and some of them forbade the hope of bemg 
able to preserve any considerable quantity ; 
and this one was as follows : I made a sort of 
la7id with the plough, and made it pretty level 
at top. Upon this land I laid some straw. 1 
then took the cabbages, turned them upside 
down, and placed them (first taking off all 
decayed leaves) about six abreast upon the 
straw. Then covered them, not very thick- 
ly, with leaves raked up in the woods, fling- 
ing now and then a little dirt (boughs of any 
sort would be better) to prevent the leaves 
from being carried off by the wind. So that, 
when the work was done, the thing was a bed 
of leaves with cabbage-roots sticking up 
through it. I only put on enough leaves to 
hide all the green. If the frost came and pre- 
vented the taking up of the cabbages, roots 
and all, they might be cut off close to the 
ground. The root, I dare say, is of no use in 
the preservation. In the months of April and 
May, I took cabbages of all sorts from this 
larid perfectly good and fresh. The quantity, 
preserved thus, was small. It might amount 
to 200 cabbages. But, it was quite sufficient 
for the purpose. Not only did the cabbages 
keep better in this, than in any other way, but 
there they were, at all times, ready. The frost 
had locked up all those which were covered 

r2 



210 CABBAGES. [PART II. 

with eartli, and those which lay with heads up- 
wards and their roots in the ground ivere rot- 
tmg. But, to this land I could have gone at 
any time, and have brought away, if the quan- 
tity had been large, a waggon load in ten mi- 
nutes. If they had been covered ivith snotv (no 
matter how deep) by uncovering twenty feet in 
length (a work of little labour) half a ton of 
cabbages would have been got at. This year, 
thinking that my Savoys, which are, at once, 
the best in quality and best to keep, of all 
winter cabbages, may be of use to send to New 
York, I have planted them between rows of 
JBrooyn-Corfi. The Broom-Corn is in roivs, 
eight feet apart. This enabled us to plough 
deep between the Broom-Corn, which, though 
in poor land, has been very fine. The heads 
are cut off; and now the stalks remain to be 
used as follows : I shall make lands up the 
piece, cut off the stalks and lay them, first a 
layer longways and then a layer crossways, 
upon the lands. Upon these I shall put my 
Savoys turned upside down ; and, as the stalks 
will be more than sufficient for this purpose, 
I shall lay some of them over, instead of dirt 
or boughs, as mentioned before. Perhai)S the 
leaves of the Broom-Corn, which are lying 
about in great quantities, may suffice for cover- 
ing. And, thus, all the materials for the work 
are upon the spot. 



CHAP. III.] CABBAGES. 211 

17-2. In quitting this matter, I may observe, 
that, to cover cabbages thus, in gardens as well 
as fields, would, in many cases, be of great use 
in Engla7id, and of sti41 more use in Scotland. 
Sometimes, a quick succession of frost, snow 
and thaw will completely rot every loaved cab- 
bage even in the South of England. Indeed 
no reliance is placed upon cabbages for use, as 
cattle-food, later than the month of December. 
The bulk is so large that a protection by houses 
of any sort cannot be thought of. Besides, the 
cabbages, put together in large masses would. 
heat and quickly rot. In gentlemen^ gardens, 
indeed, cabbages are put into houses, where 
they are hung up by the heads. But, they 
wither in this state, or they soon putrefy even 
here. By adopting the mode of preserving, 
which I have described above, all these incon- 
veniences would be avoided. Any quantity 
might be preserved either in fields or in gardens 
at a very trifling expence, compared with the 
bulk of the crop. 

173. As to the application of my Savoys, 
and part of the Drum-heads, too, indeed, if I 
find cabbages very dear, at New York, in 
winter, I shall send them ; if not, there they 
are for my cattle and pigs. The weight of 
them will not be less, I should think, than ten 
tons. The plants were put out by tivo men in 



212 CABBAGES. [PART II. 

one day ; and I shall think it very hard if two 
men do not put the whole completely up in a 
week. Tlie Savoys are very fine. A little too 
late planted out ; but still very fine ; and they 
were planted out under a burning sun and 
without a drop of rain for weeks afterwards. 
So far from taking any particular pains about 
these Savoys, I did not see them planted, and 
1 never saw them for 7nore than two months 
after they were planted. The ground for them 
was prepared thus : the ground, in each inter- 
val between the Broom-Corn, had been, some 
little time before, ploughed to the rows. This 
left a deep furrow in the middle of the interval. 
Into this furrow I put the manure. It was a 
mixture of good mould and dung from pig- 
styes. The waggon went up the interval, and 
the manure was drawn out and tumbled into 
the furrow. Then the plough went twice on 
each side of the furrow, and turned the earth 
over the manure. This made a ridge, and 
upon this ridge the plants were planted as 
quickly after the plough as possible. 

174. Now, then, what is the trouble; what 
is the expence, of all this? The seed was ex- 
cellent. I do not recollect ever having seen so 
large a piece of the cabbage kind with so few 
spurious plants. But, though good cabbage 
seed is of high pricey I should suppose, that 



CHAP. III.] CABBAGES. 213 

the seed did not cost me a quarter of a dollar. 
Suppose, however, it had cost ten quarters of a 
dollar; what would that have been, compared 
to the worth of the crop? For, what is the 
worth of ten ions of green, or moist food, in 
the month of March or April ? 

175. The Swedish Turnip is, indeed, still 
more conveniently preserved, and is a richer 
food ; but, there are some reasons for making 
part of the year's provision to consist of cab- 
bages. As far as a thing may depend on 
chance, two chances are better than one. In 
the summer and fall, cabbages get ripe, and, as 
1 have observed, in Part I. Paragraph 143, the 
Ruta Baga (which we will call Swedish Turnip 
for the future) is not so good 'till it be ripe; 
and is a great deal better when kept 'till Fe- 
bruary, than when used in December. This 
matter of ripeness is worthy of attention. Let 
any one eat a piece of white cabbage; and then 
eat a piece of the same sort of cabbage young 
and gi-een. The first he will find siveet, the 
latter bitter. It is the same with Turnips, and 
with all roots. There are some apples, wholly 
uneatable 'till kept a while, and then delicious* 
This is the case with the Swedish Turnip. 
Hogs will, indeed^ always eat it, young or old ; 
but, it is not nearly so good early, as it is when 
kept 'till February. However, in default of other 
things, I would feed with it even in November. 



214 CABBAGES. [PART II. 

176. For these reasons I would have my 
due proportion of cabbages^ and i would 
always, if possible, have some Green Savoys; 
for, it is, with cabbages, too, not only quantity 
which we ought to think of. The Drum-head, 
and some others, are called cattle-cabbage ; and 
hence, in England, there is an idea, that the 
more delicate kinds of cabbage are 7iot so good 
for cattle. But, the fact is, that they are as much 
belter for cattle, than the coarse cabbages are, 
as they are better for us. It would be strange 
indeed, that, reversing the principle of our gene- 
ral conduct, we should give cabbage of the best 
quality to cattle, and keep that of the worst 
quality for ourselves. In London, where taxa- 
tion has kept the streets as clear of bits of meat 
left on bones as the hogs endeavour to keep the 
streets of New York, there are people who go 
about selling '' dogs meat.'' This consists of 
boiled garbage. But, it is not pretended, I 
suppose, that dogs will not eat roast-beef; nor, 
is it, I suppose, imagined, that they would not 
prefer the roast-beef, if they had their choice ? 
Some j)eople pretend, that garbage and carrion 
are belter for dogs than beef and mutton are. 
That is to say, it is better for us, that they 
should live upon things, which we ourselves 
loath, than that they should share with us. 
Self-interest is, but too frequently, a miserable 
loiirician. 



CHAP. III.] CABBAGES. 215 

177. However, with regard to cattle, sheep, 
and pigs, as we intend to eat them, their claim 
to our kindness is generally more particularly 
and impartially listened to than that of the poor 
dogs ; though that of the latter, founded, as it is, 
on their sagacity, their fidelity, their real utility, 
as the guardians of our folds, our home-steads 
and our houses, and as the companions, or, ra- 
ther, the givers, of our healthful sports, is ten 
thousand times more strong, than that of ani- 
mals which live to eat, sleep, and grow fat. 
But, to return to the cabbages, the fact is, that 
all sorts of animals, which will eat them at all, 
like the most delicate kinds best; and, as some 
of these are also the earliest kinds, they ought 
to be cultivated for cattle. Some of the larger 
kinds may be cultivated too; but, they cannot 
be got ripe till the fall of the year. Nor is the 
difference in the weight of the crop so great as 
may be imagined. On the same land, that will 
bear a Drum-head of tiventy pounds, an Early 
York, or Early Battersea will weigh four 
pounds ; and these may be fifteen inches asun- 
der in the row, while the Drum-head requires 
four feet. Mind, I always suppose the roivs to 
he four feet apart, as stated in the First Part of 
this work, and for the reasons there stated. 
Besides the advantages of having some cab- 
bages early, the early ones remain so little a 



216 CABBAGES. [PART 1!. 

time upon the ground. Transplanted Swedish 
Turnips, or Buckwheat, or late Cabbages, 
especially Savoys, may always follow them the 
same year upon the same land. My early cab- 
bages, this year, have been followed by a 
Second crop of the same, and now (mid-No- 
vember) they are hard and white and we are 
giving them to the animals. 

178. There is a convenience attending cab- 
bages, which attends no other of the cattle- 
plants, namely, that of raising the plants with 
very little trouble and upon a small bit of 
ground. A little bed will give plants for an 
acre or two. The expence of seed, even of the 
dearest kinds, is a mere trifle, not worth any 
man's notice. 

179. For these reasons I adhere to cabbages 
as the companion crop of Swedish Turnips. 
The Mangel Wurzel is long in the ground. In 
seasons of great drought, it comes up unevenly. 
The weeds get the start of it. Its tillage must 
begin before it hardly shews itself It is of the 
nature of the Beet, and it requires the care 
which the Beet requires. The same may be 
said of Carrots and Parsnips. The cabbage, 
until it be fit to plant out, occupies hardly any 
ground. An hours work cleans the bed of 
weeds ; and there the plants are always ready, 
when the land is made ready. The Mangel 



CHAP. III.] CABBAGES. 217 , 

Wurzel root, if quite ripe, is richer than a white 
loaved cabhage; but, it is not more easily pre- 
served, and will not produce a larger crop. 
Cattle will eat the leaves, but hogs will not, 
when they can get the leaves of cabbages. Ne- 
vertheless, some of this root may be cultivated. 
It will fat an ox well ; and it will fat sheep 
well. Hogs will do well on it in winter. I 
would, if 1 were a settled farmer, have some of 
it ; but, it is not a thing upon which I would 
place my dependence. 

180. As to the time of sowing cabbages, the 
first sowing should be in a hot-bed, so as to 
have the plants a month old when the frost 
leaves the ground. The second sowing should 
be when the natural ground has become warm 
enough to make the zveeds begin to come up 
freely. But, seed-beds of cabbages, and, in- 
deed, of every thing, should be in the open: 
not under a fence, whatever may be the aspect. 
The plants are sure to be weak, if sown in 
such situations. They should have the air 
coming freely to them in every direction. In a 
hot-bed, the seed should be sown in rows, three 
inches apart, and the plants might be thinned 
out to one in a quarter of an inch. This would 
give about ten thousand plants in a bed ten feet 
long, and five ivide. They will stand thus to 
get to a tolerable size without injuring each 



218 CABBAGES. [PART II. 

other, if the bed be well managed as to heat 
and air. In the open ground, where room is 
plenty, the rows may be a foot apart, and the 
plants two inches apart in the rows. This will 
allow of hoeing, and here the plants will grow 
very finely. Mind, a large cabbage plant, as 
well as a large turnip plant, is better than a 
small one. All will grow, if well planted; but 
the large plant will grow best, and will, in the 
end, be the finest cabbage. 

181. We have a way, in England, of greatly 
improving the plants ; but, I am almost afraid 
to mention it, lest the American reader should 
he frightened at the bare thought of the trouble. 
When the plants, in the seed-bed, have got 
leaves about an inch broad, we take them up, 
and transplant them in fresh ground, at about 
four inches apart each ivay. Here they get 
stout and straight; and, in about three weeks 
time, we transplant them again into the ground 
where they are to come to perfection. This is 
called pricking out. When the plant is re- 
moved the second time, it is found to be fur- 
nished with new roots, which have shot out of 
the butts of the long tap, or forked roots, 
which proceeded from the seed. It, therefore, 
takes again more readily to the ground, aild has 
some earth adhere to it in its passage. One 
hundred of pricked-out plants are always look- 



CHAP. III.] CABBAGES. 2J9 

ed upon as worth three hundred from the seed- 
bed. In short, no man, in England, unless he 
be extremely negligent, ever plants out from the 
seed-bed. Let any farmer try this method 
with only a score of plants. lie may do it with 
three minutes labour. Surely, he may spare 
three minutes, and 1 will engage, that, if he 
treat these plants afterwards as he does the 
rest, and, if all be treated well, and the crop a 
fair one, the three minutes will give him fifty 
pounds weight of any of the larger sorts of 
cabbages. Plants are thus raised, then taken 
up and tied neatly in bundles, and then 
brought out of Dorsetshire and Wiltshire, and 
sold in Hampshire for three-pence (about six 
cents) a hundred. So that it cannot require the 
heart of a lion to encounter the labour attend- 
ing the raising of a few thousands of plants. 

182. However, my plants, this year, have all 
gone into the field from the seed-bed ; and, in 
so fine a climate, it may do very well; only 
great care is necessary to be taken to see that 
they be not too thick in the seed-bed. 

183. As to the preparation of the land, as to 
the manuring, as to the distance of the rows 
from each other, as to the act of planting, and 
as to the after culture, all are the same as in 
the case of transplanted Swedish Turnips ; and, 
therefore, as to these matters, the reader has 



220 CABBAGES. [PART II. 

seen enough in Part I. There is one observa- 
tion to make, as to the depth to which the plant 
ghoLiId be put into the ground. It shoukl be 
placed so deep, that the stems of the outside 
leaves be just clear of the ground; for, if you 
put the plant deeper, the rain will wash the 
loose earth in amongst the stems of the leaves, 
which will make an open poor cabbage ; and, if 
the plant be placed so low as for the heart to 
he covered with dirty the plant, though it will 
live, will come to nothing. Great care must, 
therefore, be taken as to this matter. If the 
stems of the plants be long, roots will burst 
out nearly all the way up to the surface of the 
earth. 

184. The distances at which cabbages ought 
to stand in the roivs must depend on the sorts. 
The following is nearly about the mark. Early 
Salisbury afoot; Early York Jif teen inches; 
Early Battersea twenty inches; Sugar Loaf 
two feet; Savoys two ieei and a half; and the 
Drum-head, Thousand-headed, J^arge Hollow, 
Ox cabbage, ?i\\fo%irfeet. 

185. With regard to the time of solving some 
more ought to be said ; for, we are not here, as 
in England, confined within four or five de- 
grees of latitude. Here some of us are living 
in fine, warm weather, while others of us are 
living amidst snows. It will be better, there- 



CHAP. III.] CABBAGES. 221 

fore, in giving opinions about times, to speak of 
seasons, and not of months and days. The 
country people, in England, go, to this day, 
many of them, at least, by the tides; and, what 
is supremely ridiculous, they go, in some cases, 
by the moveable tides. My gardener, at Botley, 
very reluctantly obeyed me, one year, in sow- 
ing green Kale when I ordered him to do it, 
because Whitsuntide was not come, and that, 
he said, was the proper season. " But," said I, 
*• Robinson, Whitsuntide comes later this year 
" than it did last year." " Later, Sir," said he, 
" how can that be?" ** Because," said I, " it 
" depends upon the moon when Whitsuntide 
"shall come." " The moonT said he: "what 
" sense can there be in that?" " Nay," said J, 
" I am sure 1 cannot tell. That is a matter 
" far beyond my learning. Go and ask Mr. 
" Baker, the Parson, He ought to be able to 
" tell us ; for he has a tenth part of our gar- 
" den stuff and fruit." The Quakers here cast 
all this rubbish away; and, one wonders 
how it can possibly be still cherished by any 
portion of an enlightened people. But, the 
truth is, that men do not think for themselves 
about these matters. Each succeeding gene- 
ration tread in the steps of their fathers, whom 
they loved, honoured and obeyed. They take 
uU upon trust. Gladly save themselves the 



222 CABBAGES. [PART II. 

trouble of thinking about things of not imme- 
diate interest. A desire to avoid the reproach 
of being irrehgious induces them to practise 
an outward conformity. And thus have priest- 
craft with all its fiauds, extortions, and im- 
moralities, lived and flourished in defiance of 
reason and of nature. 

186. However, as there are no farmers in 
America quite foolish enough to be ruled by 
the tides in sowing and reaping, 1 hurry back 
from this digression to say, that I cannot be ex- 
pected to speak of precise times for doing any 
work, excejit as relates to the latitude in which 
I live, and in which my experiments have been 
made. I have cultivated a garden at Fre- 
derickton in the Province of Neiv Srunswick, 
which is in latitude dhoxxi forty-eight ; and at 
Wilmington in Delaware State, which is in lati- 
tude about thirty-nine. In both these places I 
had as fine cabbages, turnips, and garden things 
of all the hardy sorts, as any man need wish to 
see. Indian Corn grew and ripened well in 
fields at Frederickton. And, of course, the 
summer was sufficient for the perfecting of all 
plants for cattle-food. And, how necessary is 
this food in Northern Climates ! More to the 
Southward than Delaware State 1 have not 
been; but, in those countries the farmers have 
to pick and choose. They have two Long 



CHAP. III.] 



CABBAGES. 



223 



Island summers and falls, and three English, 
in every year. 

187. According to these various circum- 
stances men must form their judgment; but, it 
may be of some use to state the length of time, 
which is required to bring each sort of cabbage 
to perfection. The following sorts are, it ap- 
pears to me, all that can, in any case, be neces- 
sary. I have put against each nearly the time, 
that it will require to bring it to 'perfection^ 
from the time of "planting out in the places 
where the plants are to stand to come to per- 
fection. The plants are supposed to be of 
a good size when put out, to have stood suffi- 
ciently thin in the seed-bed, and to have been 
kept clear from weeds in that bed. They are 
also supposed to go into ground well prepared. 



Early Salisbury 
Early York . . 
Early Battersea 
Sugar Loaf . . . 
Late Battersea . 
Red Kentish . . 
Drum-head . . . 
Thousand-headed 
Large hollow . . 
Ox cabbage . . . 
Savoy 



Six weeks. 
Eight weeks. 
Ten weeks. 
Eleven weeks. 
Sixteen weeks. 
Sixteen weeks. 



-Five months. 



224 CABBAGES. [PART II. 

188. It should be observed, that Savoys, 
which are so very rich in winter, are not so 
good, till they have been pinched hy front. I 
have put red cabbage down as a sort to be cul- 
tivated, because they are as good as the white 
of the same size, and because it may be conve- 
nient, in the farmer's family, to have some of 
them. The thousand-headed is of prodigious 
produce. You pull oft' the heads, of which it 
bears a great number at first, and others come; 
and so on for months, if the weather permit; 
so that this sort does not take five months to 
bring its Jirst heads to perfection. When I say 
perJectio?i, I mean quite hard; quite i^pe. 
However, this is a coarse cabbage, and requires 
great room. The Ox-cahhage is coarser than 
the Drum-head. The Large hollow is a very 
fine cabbage ; but it requires very good land. 
Some of all the sorts would be best; but, 1 
hope, 1 have now given information enough to 
enable any one to form a judgment correct 
enough to begin with. Experience will be the 
best guide for the future. An ounce of each 
sort of seed would, perhaps, be enough ; and 
the cost is, when compared with the object, 
too trifling to be thought of 

189. Notwithstanding all that I have said, or 
can say, upon the subject of cabbages, I am 
very well aware, that the extension of the cul- 



CHAP. III.] CABBAGES. 225 

tivation of them, in America, will be a work of 
time. A proposition to do any thing new, 
in so common a calling as agriculture, is looked 
at with suspicion ; and, by some, with feelings 
not of the kindest description ; because it 
seems to imply an imputation of ignorance in 
those to whom the proposition is made. A 
little reflection will, however, suppress this 
feeling in men of sense; and, those who still 
entertain it may console themselves with the 
assurance, that no one will desire to compel 
them to have stores of green, or moist, cattle- 
food in winter. To be ashamed to be taught is 
one of the greatest of human follies ; but, I 
must say, that it is a folly less prevalent in 
America than in any other country with which 
I am acquainted. 

190. Besides the disposition to reject novel- 
ties, this proposition of mine has hooks to con- 
tend against. I read, last fall, in an Ameri- 
can Edition of the Encyclopaedia Britannica, 
" greatly enlarged and improved,^^ some obser- 
vations on the culture of cabbages as cattle- 
food, which were well calculated to deter a 
reader of that book from attempting the cul- 
ture. I do not recollect the words; but, the 
substance was, that this plant could not be cul- 
tivated to advantage hy the farmer in America. 
This was the more provoking to me, as I had, 

s 2 



226 CABBAGES. [part II. 

at that moment, so flue a piece of cabbages in 
Long Idimd. If the American Editor of this 
work had given his readers the bare, unim- 
proved, Scotch Edition, the reader would have 
there seen, that, in England and Scotland, they 
raise sixty-eight tons of cabbages (tons mind) 
upon an acre; and that the whole expence of 
an acre, exclusive of rent, is one pound, four- 
teen shillings and a penny ; or seven dollars and 
seventy-five cents. Say that the expence in 
America is double and the crop one half, or 
one fourth, if you like. Where are seventeen 
tons of green food in winter, or even in sum- 
mer, to be got for sixteen dollars ; Nay, where 
is that quantity, of such a quality, to be got for 
fifty dollars? The Scotch Edition gives an 
account of fifty-four tons raised on an acre 
where the land was worth only twelve shillings 
(less than three dollars) an acre. In fairness, 
then, the American Editor should have given 
to his agricultural readers what the Scotchman 
had said upon the subject. And, if he still 
thought it right to advise the American far- 
mers not to think of cabbages, he should, I 
think, have offered them some, at least, of the 
reasons for his believing, that that which was 
obtained in such abundance in England and 
Scotland, was not to be obtained to any profit 
at al here. What! will not this immense 



CHAP. III.] CABBAGES. 227 

region furnish a climate, for this purpose, equal 
even to Scotland, where an oat will hardly 
ripen; and where the crop of that miserable 
grain is sometimes harvested amidst ice and 
snow ! The proposition is, upon the face of it, 
an absurdity ; and my experience proves it to 
be false. 

191. This book says, if I recollect rightly, 
that the culture has been tried, and has failed. 
Tried ? How tried ? That cabbages, and most 
beautiful cabbages will grow, in all parts of 
America, every farmer knows ; for he has them 
in his garden, or sees them, every year, in the 
gardens of others. And, if they will grow in 
gardens, why not in fields ? Js there common 
sense in supposiing, that they will not grow in 
a piece of laud, because it is not called a gar- 
den? The Encyclopaedia Britannica gives an 
account of twelve acres of cabbages, which 
would keep ^^ forty five oxen and sixty sheep 
*' for three months ; improving them as much as 
*' the grass in the best months in the year (in 
" England) May, June, and July." Of these 
large cabbages, being at four feet apart in the 
rows, one man will easily plant out an acre 
in a day. As to the seed-bed, the labour of 
that is nothing, as we have seen. Why, then, 
are men frightened at the labour? All but the 
mere act of planting is performed by oxen or 



228 CABBAGES. [PART II. 

horses ; and they never complain of " the 
labour.' The labour of an acre of cabbages is 
not half so much as that of an acre of Indian 
Corn. The bringing in of the crop and apply- 
ing it are not more expensive than those of the 
corn. And will any man pretend, that an acre 
of good cabbages is not worth three times as 
much as a crop of good corn? Besides, if 
early cabbages, they are off and leave the land 
for transplanted Swedish Turnips, for Late 
Cabbages, or for Buckwheat; and, if late cab- 
bages, they come after early ones, after wheat, 
rye, oats, or barley. This is what takes place 
even in England, where the fall is so much 
shorter, as to growing weather, than it is in 
Long Island, and, of course, all the way to 
Georgia. More to the North, in the latitude 
of Boston, for instance, two crops of early cab- 
bages will come upon the same ground ; or a 
crop of early cabbages will follow any sort of 
grain, except Buckwheat. 

192. In concluding this Chapter I cannot 
help strongly recommending farmers who may 
be disposed to try this culture, to try it fairly. 
That is to say, to employ true seed, good land, 
and due care; for, as " men do not gather 
*' grapes from thorns, nor figs from thistles," so 
they do not harvest cabbages from stems of 
rape. Then, as to the land, it must be made 



CHAP. III.] CABBAGES. 229 

good and rich, if it be not in that state already; 
for a cabbage will not be fine, where a white 
Turnip will ; but as the quantity of land, 
wanted for this purpose, is comparatively 
very small, the land may easily be made rich. 
The after culture of cabbages is trifling. No 
weeds to plague us with Aa/irf-work. Two 
good ploughings, at most, will suffice. But 
ploughing after planting out is necessary ; and, 
besides, it leaves the ground in so fine a state. 
The trial may be on a small scale, if the farmer 
please. Perhaps it were best to be such. But, 
on whatever scale, let the trial be 2ifair trial. 

193. I shall speak again of the use of cabr 
bages, when I come to speak of Hogs and 
Coivs. 



230 CABBAGES. [PART II. 



CHAP. IV. 

EARTH-BURNING, 1818. 

194. In paragraphs 99, 100, and 101, J spoke 
of a mode of procuring manure by the burning 
of earth, and I proposed to try it this present 
year. This I have now done, and I proceed to 
give an account of the result. 

195. I have tried the efficacy of this manure 
on Cabbages, Swedish Turnips, Indian Corn, 
and Buckwheat. In the three former cases the 
Ashes were put into the furrow and the earth 
was turned over them, in the same way that I 
have described, in Paragraph 177, with regard 
to the manure for Savoys. [ put at the rate of 
about twenty tons weight to an acre. In the 
case of the Buckwheat, the Ashes were spread 
out of the waggon upon a little strip of land on 
the out-side of the piece. They were thickly 
spread ; and it might be, that the proportion ex- 
ceeded even thirty tons to the. acre. But, upon 
the part where the ashes were spread, the Buck- 
wheat was three or four times as good as upon the 
land adjoining. The land was very poor. It 
bore Buckwheat last year, without any manure. 



CHAP. IV.] CABBAGES. 231 

It had two good ploughings then, and it had 
two good ploughings again this year, but had 
no manure, except the part above-mentioned 
and one other part at a great distance from it. 
So that the trial was very fair indeed. 

196. In every instance the ashes produced 
great effect ; and I am now quite certain, that 
any crop may be raised with the help of this 
manure ; that is to say, any sort of crop ; for, 
of dung, wood-ashes, and earth-ashes, when all 
are ready upon the spot, without purchase or 
carting from a distance, the two former are 
certainly to be employed in preference to the 
latter, because a smaller quantity of them will 
produce the same effect, and, of course, the ap- 
plication of them is less expensive. But, in 
taking to a farm unprovided with the two 
former ; or under circumstances which make it 
profitable to add to the land under cultivation, 
what can be so convenient, what so cheap, as 
ashes procured in this way ? 

197. A near neighbour of mine, Mr. Dayrea, 
sowed a piece of Swedish Turnips, broad-cast, 
in June, this year. The piece was near a 
wood, and there was a great quantity of clods 
of a grassy description. These he burnt into 
ashes, which ashes he spread over one half of 
the piece, while he put soaper's ashes over the 
other part of the piece. I saw the turnips in 



232 CABBAGE!5. [part II. 

October ; and there was no visible diflference in 
the two parts, whether as to the vigourousness 
of the plants or the bulk of the turnips. They 
were sown broad-cast, and stood unevenly upon 
the ground. They were harvested a month ago 
(it is now 20 No* ember), which was amontli too 
early. They would have been a tliird, at 
least, more in bulk, and much better in quality, 
if they had remained in the ground until now. 
The piece was 70 paces long and 7 paces 
wide; and, the reader will find, that, as the 
piece produced forty bushels, this was at th^ 
rate oi Jour hundred bushels to the acre. 

198. What quantity of earth ashes were 
spread on this piece it is impossible to ascer- 
tain with precision; but, I shall suppose the 
quantity to have been very large indeed in pro- 
portion to the surface of the land. Let it be 
four times the quantity of tlie soaper's ashes. 
Still, the one was made upon the spot, at, 
perhaps, a tenth part of the cost of the other; 
and, as such ashes can be made upon any 
farm, there can be no reason for not trying the 
thing, at any rate, and which trying may be 
effected upon so small a scale as not to exceed 
in expence a half of a dollar. I presume, that 
many farmers will try this method of obtaining 
manure ; and, therefore, I will describe how 
the burning is effected. 



CHAP. IV.] CABBAGES. 233 

199. There are two ways of producing ashes 
from earth : the one in heaps upon the ground, 
and the other within walls of turf, or earth. 
The first, indeed, is the burning of turf, or peat. 
But, let us see how it is done. 

200. The surface of the land is taken off to 
a depth of two or three inches, and turned the 
earth side uppermost to dry. The land, of 
course, is covered with grass, or heath, or 
something the roots of which hold it together, 
and which makes the part taken off take the 
name of turf. In England, this operation is 
performed with a turf cutler, and by hand. 
The turfs are then taken, or a part of them, at 
least, and placed on their edges, leaning against 
each other, like the two sides of the roof of a 
house. In this state they remain, 'till they are 
dry enough to burn. Then the burning is 
begun in this way. A little straw and some 
dry sticks, or any thing that will make a trifling 
fire, is lighted. Some little bits of the turf are 
put to this. When the turf is on fire, more 
bits are carefully put round against the open- 
ings whence the smoke issues. In the course of 
a day or two the heap grows large. The burn- 
ing keeps working on the inside, though there 
never appears any blaze. Thus the field is 
studded with heaps. After the first fire is got 
to be of considerable bulk, no straw i^ wanted 



234 CAfiBAGES. [part II. 

for other heaps, because a good shovel full of 
fire can be carried to light other heaps ; and 
so, until all the heaps are lighted, ^i'hen the 
workman goes from heap to heap, and carries 
the turf to all, by degrees, putting some to 
each heap every day or two, until all the field 
be burnt. He takes care to keep in the smoke 
as much as possible. When all the turf is put 
on, the field is left ; and, in a week or two, 
whether it rain oj" not, the heaps are ashes 
instead of earth. The ashes are afterwards 
spread upon the ground ; the ground is 
plrpghed and sowed ; and this is regarded as 
the- very best preparation for a crop of turnips. 
201. This is called '■'■paring and hnrning.'' 
It was introduced into England by the Ro- 
mans, and it is strongly recommended in the 
First Oeorgic of Virgil, in, as Mr. Tuli- shows, 
very tine poetry, very bad philosophy, and still 
worse logic. It gives three or four crops upon 
even poor land ; but, it 7'uins the land for an 
age. Hence it is, that tenants, in England, are, 
in many cases, restrairied from paring and 
burnmg, especially towards the close of their 
leases. It is the Roman husbandry, which 
has always been followed, until within a cen- 
tury, by the French and English. It is im- 
plicitly followed in France to this day ; as it 
is by the great mass of common farmers in 



CHAP. IV."] CABBAGES. 235 

England. All the foolish country sayings about 
Triday being an unlucky day to begin any 
thing fresh upon ; about the noise of Geese 
foreboding bad weather ; about the signs of the 
stars; about the inlluence of the moon on 
animals : these, and scores of others, equally 
ridiculous and equally injurious to true philo- 
sophy and religion, came from the Romans, 
and are inculcated in those books, which 
pedants call " classical,'' and which are taught 
to *' young gentlemen' at the universities and in 
academies. Hence, too, the foolish notions of 
sailors about Friday, which notions very often 
retard the operations of commerce. I have 
known many a farmer, when his wheat was 
dead ripe, put off the beginning of harvest from 
Thursday to Saturday, in order to avoid Fri- 
day. The stars save hundreds of thousands of 
lambs and pigs from sexual degradation at so 
early an age as the operation would otherwise 
be performed upon them. These heathen 
notions still prevail even in America as far as 
relates to this matter. A neighbour of mine in 
Long Island, who was to operate on some pigs 
and lambs for me, begged me to put the thing 
off for a while ; for, that the Almanac told him, 
that the signs were, just then, as unfavourable 
as possible. I begged him to proceed, for that 
X set all stars at defiance. He very kindly 



236 CABBAGES. [pART II. 

complied, and had the pleasure to see, that 
every pig and lamb did well. He was sur- 
prized when 1 told him, that this mysterious 
matter was not only a bit oi priest-craft, but of 
heathen priest-craft, cherished by priests of a 
more modern date, because it tended to be- 
wilder the senses and to keep the human mind 
in subjection. '' What a thing it is, Mr. 
" Wiggins," said I, " that a cheat practised upon 
"the pagans of Italy, two or three thousand 
*' years ago, should, by almanac-makers, be 
*' practised on a sensible farmer in America !" 
If i3riests, instead of preaching so much about 
mysteries, were to explain to their hearers the 
origin of cheats like this, one might be ready 
to allow, that the wages paid to them were not 
wholly thrown away. 

202. 1 make no apology for this digression ; 
for, if it have a tendency to set the minds of 
only a few persons on the track of detecting 
the cheatery of priests, the room which it oc- 
cupies will have been well bestowed. 

203. To return to paring and burning ; the 
reader will see with what ease it might be 
done in America, where the sun would do 
more than half the work. Besides the /?arm^' 
might be done with the plough. A sharp 
shear, going shallow, could do the thing per- 
fectly well. Cutting across would make the 
sward into turfs. 



CHAP. IV.] CABBAGES. 237 

204. So much for paring and burning. But, 
what I recommend is, not to burn the land 
which is to be cultivated, but other earth, for 
the purpose of getting ashes to be brought on 
the land. And this operation, I perform thus: 
I make a circle, or an oblong square. 1 cut 
sods and buihl a wall all round, three feet 
thick and four feet high. I then light a fire in 
the middle with straw, dry sticks, boughs, or 
such like matter. I go on making this fire 
larger and larger till it extends over the whole of 
the bottom of the pit, or kiln. J put on roots 
of trees or any rubbish wood, till there be a 
good thickness of strong coals. J then put on 
the driest of the clods that I have ploughed up 
round abOut so as to cover all the fire over. 
The earth thus put in will burn. You will see 
the smoke coming out at little places here and 
there. Put more clods wherever the smoke 
appears. Keep on thus for a day or two. By 
this time a great mass of fire will be in the 
inside. And now you may dig out the clay, 
or earth, any where round the kiln, and fling it 
on without ceremony, always taking care to 
keep in the smoke; for, if you sufliier that to 
continue coming out at any one place, a hole 
will soon be made ; the main force of the fire 
will draw to that hole ; a blaze, like that of a 
volcano will come out, and the fire will be ex- 
tinguished. 



238 CABBAGES. [PART II. 

205. A very good way, is, to put your finger 
into the top of the heap here and there ; and if 
you find the fire very 7i€ar, throw on more 
earth. Not too jnuch at a time; for that 
weighs too heavily on the fire, and keeps it 
back ; and, at Jirst, will put it partially out. 
You keep on thus augmenting the kiln, till 
you get to the top of the walls, and then you 
may, if you like, raise the walls, and still go 
on. No rain will aflect the fire when once it 
is become strong. 

206. The principle is to keep out air, 
whether at the top or the sides, and this you 
are sure to do, if you keep in the smoke. I 
burnt, this last summer, about thirty waggon 
loads in one round kiln, and never saw the 
smoke at all after the first four days. I put in 
my finger to try whether the fire was near the 
top ; and when I found it approaching, I put 
on more earth. Never was a kiln more com- 
pletely burnt. 

207. Now, this may be done on the skirt of 
any wood, where the matters are all at hand. 
This mode is far preferable to the above-ground 
burning in heaps. Because, in the first place, 
there the materials must be turf, and dry turf; 
and, in the next place, the smoke escapes there, 
which is the finest part of burnt matter. Soot, 
\ye know well, is more powerful than ashes ; 



CHAP. IV.] CABBAGES. 239 

and, soot is composed of the grossest part of 
the smoke. That which flies out of the chimney 
is the best part of all. 

208. In case of a want of t«;oo<? wherewith to 
begin the fire, the fire may be lighted precisely 
as in the case of paring and hurniiig. If the 
kiln be large, the oblong square is the best 
figure. About ten feet wide, because then a 
man can fling the earth easily over every part. 
The mode they pursue in England, where 
there is no wood, is to make a sort of building 
in the kiln with turfs, and leave air-holes at the 
corners of the walls, till the fire be well begun. 
But this is tedious work; and, in this country 
wholly unnecessary. Care must, however, be 
taken, that the fire be well lighted. The 
matter put in at first should be such as is of 
the lightest description ; so that a body of earth 
on fire may be obtained, before it be too heavily 
loaded. 

209. The burning being completed, having 
got the quantity you want, let the kiln remain. 
The fire will continue to work, 'till all is ashes. 
[f you want to use the ashes sooner, open the 
kiln. They will be cold enough to remove in 
a week. 

210. Some persons have peat^ or bog earth. 
This may be burnt like common earth, in kUns, 
or dry, as in the paring and burning method. 

T 



240 CABBAGES. [PART IL 

Only, the peat should be cut out in the shape 
of bricks, as much longer and bigger as you 
find convenient, and set uj3 to dry, in the same 
way that bricks are set up to dry previous to 
the burning. This is the only fuel for houses 
in some parts of England. I myself was 
nursed and brought up without ever seeing any 
other sort of fire. The ashes used, in those 
times, to be sold for foiir pence sterling a 
bushel, and w^ere frequently carried, after the 
purchase, to a distance of ten miles, or more : 
At this time, in my own neighbourhood, in 
Hampshire, peat is burnt in large quantities 
for the ashes, which are sold, I believe, as high 
as sixpence sterling a bushel, and carried to a dis- 
tance even of twenty miles in some cases. 

211. Nevertheless it is certain, that these 
ashes are not equally potent upon every sort of 
soil. We do not use them much at Botley, 
though upon the spot. They are carried away 
to the higher and poorer lands, where they are 
sown by hand upon clover and sainfoin. An 
excellent farmer, in this Island, assures me, 
that he has tried them in various ways, and 
never found them to have effect. So say the 
farmers near Botley. But, there is no harm in 
making a trial. It is done with a mere tiothing 
of expence. A yard square in a garden is 
quite sufficient for the experiment. 



CHAP. IV.] CABBAGES. 241 

212. With respect to earth-ashes, burnt in 
kilns, keeping in the smoke, 1 have proved their 
great good effect; but, still, [ would recom 
mend trying them upon a small scale. How- 
ever, let it be borne in mind, that the proportion 
to the acre ought to be large. Thirty good 
tons to an acre ; and why may it not be such, 
seeing that the expence is so trifling? 



T 2 



242 TRANSPLANTING INDIAN CORN. [PART II 



CHAP. V. 

TRANSPLANTING INDIAN CORN. 

213. I WAS always of opinion, tliat thi!;; 
tvould be the best mode, under certain circum- 
stances, of dealing with this crop. The spring, 
in this part of America, and further to the 
North, is but short. It is nearly winter 'till it 
is summer. The labours of the year are, at 
this season, very much croicded. To plant the 
grains of the Indian Corn over a whole field 
requires previous ploughing, harrowing, mark- 
ing, and manuring. The consequence is, that, 
as there are so many other things to do, some- 
thing is but too often badly done. 

214. Now, if this work of Corn planting 
could be postponed to the 2.5th of June (for 
this Island) instead of being performed on, or 
about the 15th of May, how well the ground 
might be prepared by the 25th of June! This 
can be done only by transplanting the plants of 
the Corn. 1 was resolved to try this: and so 
confident was I that it would succeed, that I 
had made some part of my preparations for si.v 
acres. 



CHAP, v.] TRANSPtANTINa INDIAN CORN. 243 

215. 1 sowed the seed at about three inches 
apart, in beds, on the 20th of Mai/. The plants 
stood in the beds (about 15 perches of ground) 
till the^zr^^ of July. They were now two feet 
and a half high ; and I was ready to begin 
planting out. The weather had been dry in 
the extreme. JNot a drop of rain for nearly a 
mmith. My land was poor, but clean ; and I 
ougbt to have proceeded to do the job at once. 
My principal man had heard so much in ridi- 
cule of the project, that he was constantly 
begging and praying me not to persevere. 
*' Every body said it was impossible for the 
" Corn to live .'" However, I began. I ploughed 
a part of the field into four-feet ridges, and, 
one evening, set on, thus : I put a good quan- 
tity of earth-ashes in the deep furrow between 
the ridges, then turned back the earth over 
them, and then planted the Corn on the ridge, 
at a foot apart. We pulled up the plants with- 
out ceremony, cut off their roots to half an 
inch long, cut; off tlieir leaves about eight 
inches down from their points, and, with a 
long setting stick, «tuck tbem about seven 
inches into the ground down amongst tbe fresh 
mould and ashes. 

216. This was on the first of July in the 
evening; and, not willing to be laughed at too 
muchy 1 thought I would pause two or three 



244 TRANSPLANTING INDIAN CORN. [PART 11, 

days ; for, really, the sun seemed as if it would 
burn up the very earth. At the close of the 
second day, news was brought me, that the 
Corn was all dead. I went out and looked at 
it, and though I saw that it wtis not dead, I 
suffered the everlasting gloomy peal that my 
people rang in my ears to extort from me my 
consent to the pullivg tip of the rest of the 
plants and throwing them away ; consent which 
was acted upon with such joy, alacrity, and 
zeal, that the whole lot were lying under the 
garden fence in a few minutes. My man in- 
tended to give them to the oxen, from the cha- 
ritable desire, I suppose, of annihilating this 
proof of his master's folly. He would have 
pulled up the two rows which we had trans- 
planted ; but I would not consent to that; for, 
I was resolved, that they should have a week's 
trial. At the end of the week I went out and 
looked at them. I slipped out at a time when 
no one was likely to see me! At a hundred 
yards distance the plants looked like so many 
little Corn stalks in November ; but, at twenty 
yards, I saw that all ivas rights and 1 began to re- 
proach myself for having suffered my mind to 
be thwarted in its purpose by opinions opposed 
to principles. 1 saw, that the plants were all 
alive, and had begun to shoot in the heart. I 
did not stop a minute. I hastened back to the 



CHAP, v.] TRANSPLANTING INDIAN CORN. 245 

garden to see whether any of the plants, which 
lay in heaps, were yet alive. 

2 J 7. Now, mind, the plants were put out on 
the first of July ; the 15 succeeding days were 
not only dry, but the very hottest of this glori- 
ously hot summer. The plants that had been 
Jlung aicay were, indeed, nearly all dead; but, 
some, which lay at the bottoms of the heaps, 
were not only alive, but had shot their roots 
into tlie ground. 1 resolved to plant out two 
rows of these, even these. While I was at it 
Mr. Judge Mitchell called upon me. He 
laughed at us very heartily. This was on the 
Zth of July. I challenged him to take him 
three to one my tw o rows against any two rows 
of his corn of equal length ; and he is an excel- 
lent farmer on excellent land. *' Then," said I, 
" if you are afraid to back your opinion, I do 
^' not mind your laugh.'' 

218. On the 27th of August Mr. Judge 
Mitchell and his brother the justly celebrated 
Doctor Mitchell did me the honour to call 
here. I was gone to the mill ; but they saw the 
Corn. The next day I had the pleasure to meet 
Doctor Mitchell, for the first time, at his bro- 
ther's ; and a very great pleasure it was ; for a 
man more full of knowledge and apparently 
less conscious of it» I never saw in my life. 
Put, the Corn : " What do you think of my 



246 TRANSPLANTING INDIAN CORN. [PART II. 

'* Corn now?" I asked Mr. Mitchell whether 
he did not think I should have won the wager. 
" Why, I do not know, indeed," said he, *' as to 
*' the two first planted rows." 

219. On the 10/A of September, Mr. Judge 
'Lawrence, in company with a young gentle- 
man, saw the Corn. He examined the ears. 
Said that they were well-filled, and the grains 
large. He made some calculations as to the 
amount of the crop. I think he agreed with me, 
that it would be at the rate of about forty 
bushels to the acre. All that now remained 
was to harvest the Corn, in a few weeks' time, 
to shell, to weigh it ; and to obtain a couple of 
rows of equal length of every neighbour sur- 
rounding me; and then, make the comparison, 
the triumphant result of which I anticipated 
with so much certainty, that my impatience for 
the harvest exceeded in degree the heat of the 
weather, though that continued broiling hot. 
That very night ! the night following the day 
when Mr. Judge Lawrence saw the Corn, 
eight or nine steers and heifers leaped, or 
broke, into my pasture from the road, kindly 
poked down the fence of the field to take with 
them four oxen of my own which had their 
heads tied down, and in they all went just 
upon the transplanted Corn, of which they left 
neither ear nor stem, except about two bushels 



CHAP, v.] TRANSPLANTING INDIAN CORN. 247 

of ears which they had, in their haste, trampled 
under foot! What a mortification! Half an 
acre of fine cabbages nearly destroyed by the 
biting- a hole in the hearts of a great part of 
them; turnips torn up and trampled about; a 
scene of destruction and waste, which, at ano- 
ther time, would have made me stamp and 
rave (if not swear) like a mad-man, seemed 
now nothing at all. The Corn was such a 
blow, that nothing else was felt. 1 was, too, 
both hand-tied and tongue-tied. I had nothing 
to wreak my vengeance on. In the case of the 
Boroughmongers I can repay blow with blow, 
and, as they have already felt, with interest 
and compound interest. But, there was no 
human being that I could blame; and, as to 
the depredators themselves, though in this in- 
stance, their conduct did seem worthy of ano- 
ther being, whom priests have chosen to furnish 
with horns as well as tail, what was I to do 
against them? In short, I had, for once in my 
life, to submit peaceably and quietly, and to 
content myself with a firm resolution never to 
plant, or sow, again without the protection of 
a fence, which an ox cannot get over and 
which a pig cannot go under. 

220. This Corn had every disadvantage to 
contend with : poor land ; no manure but earth- 
ashes burnt out of that same land ; planted in 



248 TRANSPLANTING INDIAN CORN. [PART II. 

dry earth ; planted in dry and hot ^veather ; no 
rain to enter tivo inches, until the 8th of August, 
nine and thirty days after the transplanting ; 
and yet, evev)/ jilant had one good perfect ear, 
and, besides, a small ear to each plant; and 
some of the plants had three ears, two perfect 
and one imperfect. Even the tivo last-planted 
roivs, though they were not so good, Mere not 
bad. My opinion is, that their produce would 
have been at the rate of 25 bushels to the acre; 
and this is not a bad crop of Corn. 

221. For my part, if I should cultivate Corn 
again, I shall transplant it to a certainty. Ten 
days earlier, perhaps ; but I shall certainly 
transplant what 1 grow. I know, that the 
labour ivill be less, and 1 believe that the crop 
will be far greater. No dropping the seed ; no 
hand-hoing; no patching after the cut-worm^ 
or broum grub ; no suckers ; no grass and weeds ; 
no stijlbig ; every plant has its' proper space; 
all is clean ; and one good ,deep ploughing, or 
two at most, leaves the ground as clean as a 
garden ; that is to say, as a garden ought to be. 
The sowing of the seed in beds is one day's 
work (for ten acies) for one man. Hoing the 
young plants, another day. Transpl anting, jTowr 
dollars an acre to the very outside. " But 
" where are the hands to come from to do the 
*■ transplanting?" One would think, that, to 



CHAP, v.] TRANSPLANTING INDIAN CORN. 249 

hear this question so often repeated, the people 
in America were like the R]iodian Militia, 
described in the beautiful poem of Dryden, 
" mouths without hands.'' Far, however, is this 
from being tlie case ; or else, where would the 
hands come from to do the marking; the 
dropping and, covering of the Corn ; the hand- 
hoing of it, sometimes twice ; the patching 
after the grubs ; the suckering when that work 
is done, as it always ought to be? Put the 
plague and expences of all these operations 
together, and you will, I believe, find them to 
exceed four or even six, dollars an acre, if they 
be all well done, and the Corn kept perfectly 
clean. 

222. The transplanting of ten acres of Corn 
cannot be done all in one daij by two or three 
men ; nor is it at all necessary that it should. It 
may be done within the space of twelve or 
fourteen days. Little boys and girls, very 
small, will carry the plants, and if the farmer 
will but try, he will stick in an acre a day him^ 
self; for, observe, nothing is so easily done. 
There is no fear of dearth. The plants, in soft 
ground, might almost be poked down like so 
many sticks. I did not try it ; but, I am pretty 
sure, that the roots might be cut all off close, 
so that the stump were left entire. For, mind, 
^ fibre, of a stout thing, never grows again 



250 TRANSPLANTING INDIAN CORN. [PART H. 

after removal. New ones must come out of 
new roots too, or the plant, whether corn or tree, 
will die. When some people plant trees, they 
iare so careful not to cut off the little hairi/ 
fibres; for these, they think, will catch hold of 
the ground immediately/. If, when they have 
planted in the fall, they were to open the 
ground in June the next year, what would be 
their surprise to find all the hairy fibres in a 
mouldy state, and the new stnall roots shot out 
of the hig' roots of the tree, and no new fibres 
at all yet ? for, these come out of the new small 
roots! It is the same with every sort of plant, 
except of a very small size and very quickly 
moved from earth to earth. 

223. If any one choose to try this method of 
cultivating Corn, let him bear in mind, that the 
plants ought to be strong, and nearly two feet 
high. The leaves should be shortened by all 
means ; for, they must perish at the tops before 
the new flow of sap can reach them. I have 
heard people say, that they have tried trans- 
planting Corn very often, but have never found 
it to answer. But hoiv have they tried it? 
Why, when the grub has destroyed a hill, they 
have taken from other hills the superabundant 
plants and filled up the vacancy. In the first 
place, they have done this when the plants 
yvere small: that is not my plan. Then they 



CHAP, v.] TRANSPLANTING INDIAN CORN. 251 

have put the plants in stale hard ground: that 
is not my plan. Then they have put them into 
ground where prosperous neighbours had the 
start of them: that is not my plan. I am not 
at all surprized, that they have not found their 
plan to ansiver; but, that is no reason that 
mine should not answer. The best way will 
be to try three rows in any field, and see which 
method requires the least labour and produces 
the largest crop. 

224. At any rate, the facts, which I have 
stated upon this subject are curious in them- 
selves ; they are useful, as they shew what we 
may venture to do in the removing of plants ; 
and they shew most clearly how unfounded 
are the fears of those, who imagine, that Corn 
is injured by ploughing between it and breaking 
its roots. My plants owed their vigour and 
their fruit to their removal into fresh pasture ; 
and, the oftener the land is ploughed between 
growing crops of any sort (allowing the roots 
to shoot between the ploughings) the better it 
is. I remember that Lord Ranelah showed 
me in 1806, in his garden at Fulham, a peach 
tree, which he had removed in fidl bloom, and 
that must have been in March, and which bore 
a great crop of fine fruit the same year. If a 
tree can be thus dealt with, why need we fear to 
transplaut such things as Indian Corn ? 



252 SWEDISH TURNIPS. [PART II. 



CHAP. VI. 



SWEDISH TURNIPS. 



225. Upon this subject I have no great deal 
to add to what was said in Part I. Chap. II. 
There are a few things, however, that I omitted 
to mention, which I will mention here. 

226. I sow my seed by hand. All machinery 
is imperfect for this purpose. The wheel of the 
drill meets with a sudden check; it jumps; 
the holes are stopped ; a clogging or an impro- 
per impelling takes place; a gap is produced, 
and it can never be put to rights ; and, after 
all, the sowing upon four feet ridges is very 
nearly as quickly performed by hand. I make 
the drills, or channels, to sow the seed in by 
means of a light roller, which is drawn by a 
horse, which rolls two ridges at a time, and 
which has two markers following the roller, 
making a drill upon the top of each ridge. 
This saves time ; but, if the hand do the whole, 
a man will draw the drills, sow the seed, and 
cover an acre in a day with ease. 

227. The only mischief in this case, is, that 
of sowing too thick; and this arises from the 



CHAP. VI.] SWEDISH TURNIPS. 253 

seed being so nearly of the colour of the earth. 
To guard against this evil, I this year adopted 
a method which succeeded perfectly. 1 ivetted 
the seed with water a little, I then put some 
tvhitening to it, and by rubbing them well toge- 
ther, the seed became ivhite instead of hroivn; 
so that the man when sowing, could see what 
he was about. 

228. In my directions for transplanting tur- 
nips I omitted to mention one very important 
thing; the care to be taken not to bury the 
heart of the plant. I observed how necessary 
it was to fix the plant firmly in the ground; 
and, as the planter is strictly charged to do 
this, he is apt to pay little attention to the 
means by which the object is accomplished. 
The thing is done easily enough, if you cram 
the butts of the leaves down below the surface. 
But, this brings the earth, with the first rain at 
least, over the heart of the plant; and then it 
will never groiv at all: it will just live; but 
will never increase in size one single jot. Care, 
therefore, must be taken of this. The fixing is 
to be effected by the stick being applied to the 
point of the root; as mentioned in paragrajih 85. 
Not to fix the plant is a great fault ; but to 
bury the heart is a much greater ; for, if this be 
done, the plant is sure to die. 



254 SWEDISH TURNIPS. [PART II, 

22.9. My own crop of Swedish Turnips this 
year is far inferior to that of last in every re- 
spect. The season has been singularly unfa- 
vourable to all green and root crops. The 
grass has been barer than it was, 1 believe, 
ever known to be; and, of course, other vege- 
tables have experienced a similar fate. Yet, I 
have some very good turnips ; and, even with 
such a season, they are \yorth more than three 
times what a crop of Corn on the same land 
would have been. I am now (25th Nov.) giving 
the greens to my cow and hogs. A cow and 
forty stout hogs eat the greens of about twenty 
or thirty rods of turnips in a day. My five 
acres of greens will last about 25 days. I give 
no corn or grain of any sort to these hogs, and 
my English hogs are qidle fat enough for fresh 
pork. I have about 25 more pigs to join these 
forty in a month's time: about 40 more will 
join those before April. My cabbages on an 
acre and a half of ground will carry me well 
on till February (unless I send my Savoys to 
New York), and, when the cabbages are done, 
I have my Swedish Turnips for March, April, 
May and June, with a great many to sell if I 
choose. I have, besides, a dozen ewes to keep 
on the same food, with a few wethers and 
lambs, for my house. In June Early Cabbages 



CHAP. VI.] SWEDISH TURNIPS. 255 

come in; and then the hogs feed on them. 
Thus the year is brought round. 

230. But, what pleases me most, as to the 
Swedish Turnips, is, that several of my neigh- 
bours have tried the culture, and have far sur- 
passed me in it this year. Their land is better 
than mine, and they have had no Borough-vil- 
lains and Bank-villains to fight against. Since 
my Turnips were sown, I have written great 
part of a Grammar and have sent twenty Re- 
gisters to England, besides writing letters 
amounting to a reasonable volume in bulk ; the 
whole of which has made an average of nine pages 
of common print a day, Sundays included. And, 
besides this, I have been twelve days from home, 
on business, and about five on visits. Now, 
whatever may have been the quality of the writ- 
ings ; whether they demanded 7nind or not, is no 
matter : they demanded time for the fingers to 
move in, and yet, I have not written a hundred 
pages hy candle-light. A man knows not what 
he can do 'till he tries. But, then, mind, I have 
always been up with the cocks and hens ; and 
I have drunk nothing but milk and water. It 
is a saying, that " wine inspires wit;' and that 
" in wbie there is truth.'' These sayings are 
the apologies of drinkers. Every thing that 
produces intoxication, though in but the slight- 
est degree, is injurious to the mind; whether it 

u 



256 SWEDISH TURNIPS. [PART II. 

be such to the body or not, is a matter of far 
less consequence. My Letter to Mr. Tierney, 
on the state of the Paper-Money, has, I find, 
produced a great and general impression in 
England. The subject was of great import- 
ance, and the treating it involved much of that 
sort of reasoning which is the most difficult of 
execution. That Letter, consisting of thirty- 
two full pages of print, I wrote in one day, and 
that, too, on the 11th of July, tlie hottest day 
in the year. But, I never could have done this, 
if I had been guzzling wine, or grog, or beer, 
or cider, all the day. I hope the reader will 
excuse this digression ; and, for my own part, I 
think nothing of the charge of egotism, if, by 
indulging in it, [ produce a proof of the excel- 
lent effects of sohrieti). It is not drunkenness 
that I cry out against : that is beastly, and be- 
neath my notice. It is drinking; for a man 
may be a great drinker, and yet no drunkard. 
He may accustom himself to swallow, 'till his 
belly is a sort of tub. The Spaniards, who are 
a very sober people, call such a man " a trine 
" bag,'' it being the custom in that country to 
put wine into bags, made of skins or /lides. 
And, indeed, ii'i7ie bag or grog bag or beer bag 
is the suitable appellation. 

231. To return to the Swedish Turnips, it 
was impossible for me to attend to them in per- 



CHAP. VI.] SWEDISH TURNIPS. 257 

son at all; for, if I once got out, I should have 
kept out. I was very anxious about them ; but 
much more anxious about my duty to my 
countrymen, who have remained so firmly at- 
tached to me, and in whose feelings and views, 
as to pubUc matters, I so fully participate. I 
left my men to do their best, and, considering 
the season, they did very well. I have observed 
before, that I never saw my Savoys 'till two 
months after they were planted out in the field, 
and I never saw some of my Swedish Turnips 
till within these fifteen days. 

232. But, as I said before, some of my neigh- 
bours have made the experiment with great 
success. I mentioned Mr. Dayrea's crop be- 
fore, at paragraph 197. Mr. Hart, at South 
Hampstead, has a fine piece, as my son informs 
me. His account is, that the field looked, in 
October, as fine as any that he ever saw in 
England. Mr. Judge Mitchell has a small 
field that were, when I saw them, as fine as 
any that I ever saw in my life. He had trans- 
planted some in the driest and hottest weather ; 
and they were exceedingly fine, notwithstanding 
the singular untowardness of the season. 

233. Mr. James Byrd of Flushing, has, 
however, done the thing upon the largest scale. 
He sowed, in June, about two acres and a half 
upon ridges thirty inches apart. They were 

u 2 



258 8WEt)lSH TURNIPS. [PART II. 

very fine ; and, in September, tlieir leaves met 
across the intervals. On the 21st of September 
I saw them for the second time. The field was 
one body of beautiful green. The weather 
still very dry. 1 advised Mr. Byrd to jdough 
between them by all means ; for the roots had 
met long before across the interval. He ob- 
served, that the horse would trample on the 
leaves. I said, " never mind : the good done 
" by the plough will be ten times greater than 
"^ the injury done by the breaking of leaves.' 
He said, that, great as his fears were, he would 
follow my advice. I saw^ the turnips again on 
the 8th of October, when I found, that he had 
begun the ploughing; but, that the horse made 
such havock amongst the leaves, and his work- 
man made such clamorous remonstrances, that, 
after doing a little piece, Mr. Byrd desisted. 
These were reasons wholly insufiicient to sa- 
tisfy me ; and at the latter, the remonstrances of 
a workman, I should have ridiculed, without a 
grain of mercy ; only I recollected, that my men 
had remonstrated me (partly with sorrowful 
looks and shakes of the head) out of my design 
to transplant six acres of Indian Corn. 

234. Mr. Byrd's crop was about 350 bushels 
to an acre. I was at liis house on the 23rd of 
this month (November) ; and there I heard two 
things from him which I communicate with 



CHAP. VI.] SWEDISH TURNIPS, ^59 

great pleasure. The first was, that, from the 
time he begau taking up his turnips, he began 
feeding his cows upon the greens; and, that 
this doubled the quantity of their milk. That the 
greens might last as long as possible, he put 
them in small heaps, that they might not heat 
He took up his turnips, however, nearly a 
month too early. They grow till the hard 
frosts come. The greens are not so good till 
they have had some little frost; and, the bulb 
should be ripe. I have been now (27 Nov.) 
about ten days cutting off my greens. The 
bulbs I shall take up in about ten days hence. 
Those that are not consumed by that time, I 
shall put in small heaps in the field, and bring 
them away as they may be wanted. 

235. The other thing stated to me by Mr. 
Byrd pleased me very much indeed; not only 
an account of its being a complete confirmation 
of a great principle of Tull applied to land in 
this climate, but on account also of the candour 
of Mr. Byrd, who, when he had seen the re- 
sult, said, " I was wrong, friend Cobbett, in 
" not following thy advice." And then he went 
on to tell me, that the turnips in the piece ivhich 
he had ploughed after the ^\st of Septemher 
were a crop a fourth part greater than those 
adjoining them, which remained unploughed. 
Thus, then, let no one be afraid of breaking 



260 SWEDISH TURNIPS. [PART II. 

the pretty leaves that look so gay ; and, how 
false, then nuist be the notion, that to plough 
Indian-Corn in dry iveather, or late, is injuri- 
ous ! Why should it uot be as beneficial to 
Corn as to Turnips and Cabbages ? 

230. Mr. Byrd transplanted with his super- 
abundant plants, about two acres and a half. 
These he had not taken up on the ^Srd of No- 
vember. They were not so fine as the others, 
owing, in part, to the hearts of many having been 
huried, and to the whole having been put too 
deep into the ground. But, the ridges of both 
fields were too close together. Four feet is the 
distance. You cannot plough clean and deep 
within a smaller space without throwing the 
earth over the plants. But, as bulk of crop is 
the object, it is very hard to persuade people, 
that two rows are not better than one. Mr. Judge 
Mitchell is a true disciple of the Tullian 
System. His rows were four feet asunder; his 
ridges high ; all according to rule. Jf 1 should 
be able to see his crop, or him, before this 
volume goes to the }>ress, I will give some ac- 
count of the result of his labours. 

237. This year has shown me, that America 
is not wholly exempt from that mortal enemy 
of turnips, the Jfy, which mawled some of mine, 
and which carried off a M'hole piece for Mr, 
Judge Lawrence at Bay-side. Mr. Byrd says, 



CHAP. VI.] SWEDISH TURNIPS. 2(31 

that he thinks, that to soak the seed m fish-oil 
is of use as a protection. It is very easy to 
trif it ; but, the best security is, pretty early 
sowing thick, and transplanting. However, 
this has been a singular year ; and, even this 
year, the ravages of the fly have been, generally 
speaking, but trifling. 

238. Another enemy has, too, made his ap- 
pearance : the caterpillar ; which came about 
the tenth of October. These eat the leaves ; 
and, sometimes, they will, as in England, eat 
all up, if left alone. In Mr. Byrd's field, they 
were proceeding on pretty rapidly, and, therefore 
he took up his turnips earlier than he would have 
done. Wide rows are a great protection against 
these sinecure gentry of the fields. They at- 
tacked me on the outside of a piece joining 
some buck-wheat, where they had been bred. 
When the buckwheat was cut, they sallied out 
upon the turnips, and, like the spawn of real 
Borough mongers, they, after eating all the 
leaves of the first row, went on to the second, 
and were thus proceeding to devour the whole. 
I went with my plough, ploughed a deep fur- 
row yi-om the rows of turnips, as far as the cater- 
pillars had gone. Just shook the plants and 
gave the top of the ridge a bit of a sweep with 
a little broom. Then hurried them alive, by 
turning the furrows back. Oh ! that tlie people of 



262 SWEDISH TURNIPS. [PART it. 

England could treat the Borough-villains and 
their swarms in the same way ! Then might they 
hear without envy of the easy and happy lives 
of American farmers ! 

239. A good sharp frost is the only complete 
doctor for this complaint; but, wide rows and 
ploughing will do much, where the attack is 
made in line, as in my case. Sometimes, how- 
ever, the enemy starts up, here and there, all 
over the field; and then you must plough the 
whole field, or be content with turnips without 
greens, and with a diminished crop of turnips 
into the bargain. Mr. Byrd told me, that the 
caterpillars did 7iot attack the part of the field 
which he ploughed after the 2\st of September 
with nearly so much fury as they attacked the 
rest of the field ! To be sure ; for, the turnip 
leaves there, having received fresh vigour from 
tlie ploughing, were of a taste more acrid ; and, 
you always see, that insects and reptiles, that 
feed on leaves and bark, choose the most sickly 
or feeble plants to begin upon, because the 
juices in them are sweeter. So that here is 
another reason, and not a weak one, for deep 
and late ploughing. 

240. I shall speak again of Swedish turnips 
when 1 come to treat of hogs; but, I will here 
add a few remarks on the subject of preserving 
the roots. In paragraph 106, I described the 



CHAP. VI.] SWEDISH TURNIPS. 263 

manner in which 1 stacked my turnips last year. 
That did very well. But, I will not, this year, 
make any hole in the ground, I will pile up about 
thirty bushels upon the level ground, in a pyra- 
midical form, and then, to keep the earth from 
running amongst them, put over a little straw, or 
leaves of trees, and about four or five inches of 
earth over the whole. For, mind, the object is 
not to prevent freezing. The turnips will freeze 
as hard as stones. But, so that they do not see 
the siin, or the light, till they are thavjed, it is 
no matter. This is the case even with apples. 
J preserved ivhite turnips this w^ay last year. 
Keep the light out, and all will be safe with 
every root that 1 know any thing of, except that 
miserable thing, the potatoe, which, consisting 
of earth, of a small portion of flour, and of 
water unmixed ivith sugar, will freeze to per- 
dition, if it freeze at all. Mind, it is no matter 
to the animals, whether the Swedish turnip, 
the white turnip, or the cabbage, be frozen, or 
not, at the time when they eat them. They are 
just as good ; and are as greedily eaten. Other- 
wise, how would our sheep in England fatten 
on turnips (even white turnips) in the open 
fields and amidst snows and hard frosts? But, 
a potatoe, let the frost once touch it, and it is 
wet dirt. 

241. I am of opinion, that if there were no 



264 SWEDISH TURNIPS. [PART II. 

earth put over the turnip heaps, or stacks, it 
M^ould be better; and, it would be much more 
convenient. I shall venture it for a part of my 
crop ; and I would recommend others to try it. 
The Northern Winter is, therefore, no objection 
to the raising of any of these crops ; and, 
indeed, the crops are far more necessary there 
than to the Southward, because the Northern 
Winter is so much longer than the Southern. 
Let the snows (even the Nova Scotia snows) 
come. There are the crops safe. Ten minutes 
brings in a waggon load at any time in winter, 
and the rest remain safe till spring. 

242. I have been asked how I would manage 
the Swedish turnips, so as to keep them 'till 
June or July. In April (for Long Island) ; 
that is to say, when the roots begin to shoot 
out greens, or, as they will be, yellows, when 
hidden from the light. — Let me stop here a 
moment, to make a remark which this circum- 
stance has suggested. I have said before, that 
if you keep the bulbs from the light, they will 
freeze and thaw without the least injury. I 
was able to give no reason for this ; and who 
can give a reason for leaves being yellow if they 
grow in the dark, and green, if they grow in the 
light ? It is not the sun (except as the source 
of light) that makes the. green; for any plant 
that grows in constant shade will be green ; while 



CHAP. VI.] SWEDISH TURNIPS. 2(J5 

one that grows in the dark will be yellow. When 
my sou, James, was about three years old, 
Lord Cochrane, lying against a green bank 
in the garden with him, had asked him many 
questions about the sky, and the river, and the 
sun and the moon, in order to learn what were 
the notions, as to those objects, in the mind of 
a child. James grew tired, for, as Rousseau, in 
his admirable exposure of the folly of teaching 
hy question mid answer^ observes, nobody likes 
to be questioned, B.nd especially children. "Well," 
said James, *' now you tell me something : what 
'" is it that makes the grass green" His Lord- 
ship told him it was the smi. " Why," said 
James, pulling up some grass, " you see it is 
*' ivhite dotvn hei-e." " Aye," replied my Lord, 
" but that is because the sun cannot get at it." 
" How get at it ?" said James : " The sun makes 
" it hot all the way down." Lord Cochrane 
came in to me, very much delighted : " Here," 
said he, " little Jemmy has started a fine sub- 
" ject of dispute for all the philosophers." if this 
page should have the honour to meet the eye 
of Lord Cochrane, it will remind him of one 
of the many happy hours that we have passed 
together, and I beg him to regard any mention 
of the incident as a mark of that love and re- 
spect which I bear towards him, and of the 



2tl6 SWEDISH TURNIPS. [pART II. 

ardent desire I constantly lipvc to see him 
avenged on all vile, cov^ardly, perjured and in- 
famous )3ersecutors. 

243. When any one has told me, what it is 
that makes " grass green," T shall be able to 
tell him what it is that makes darkness preserve 
turnips; and, in the meanwhile, lam quite con. 
tent with a perfect knowledge of the effects. 

244. So far for the preservation ^rhile winter 
lasts; but, then, how to manage the roots when 
spring comes? Take the turnips out of the 
heaps ; spread them upon the ground round 
about, or any where else in the sun. Let them 
get perfectly dry. If they lie a month in sun 
and rain alternately, it does not signify. They 
will take no injury. Throw them on a barns 

Jloor ; throw them into a shed; put them any 
where out of the way ; only do not put them in 
thick heaps '., for then they will heat, perhaps, 
and grow a little. I believe they may be kept 
the ivhole year perfectly sound and good ; but, 
at any rate, I kept them thus, last year, Hill, July. 
245. Of saving seed I have some little to say. 
I saved some, in order to see whether it degene- 
rated ; but, having, before the seed was ripe, 
had such complete proof of the degeneracy of 
cabbage seed; having been assured by Mr. 
William Smith, of Great Neck, that the 



CHAP. VI.] SWEDISH TURNIPS. 267 

Swedish turnip seed had degenerated with him 
to a long whitish root ; and, having, besides, 
seen the long, pale looking things in New York 
Market in June ; I took no care of what 1 had 
growing, being sure of the real sort from Eng- 
land. However, Mr. Byrd's were from his own 
seed, which he has saved for several years. 
They differ from mine. They are longer in 
proportion to their circumference. The leaf is 
rather more pointed, and tlie inside of the bulb 
is not of so deep a yellow. Some of Mr, Byrd's 
have a little hole towards the crown, and the 
flesh is spotted with white where the green is 
cut off. He ascribes these defects to the season ; 
and it may be so ; but, I perceive them in none 
of my turnips, which are as clear and as sound, 
though not so large, as they were last year. 

246. Seed is a great matter. Perhaps the 
best way, for farmers in general, would be 
always to save some, culling the plants care- 
fully, as mentioned in paragraph 32. This 
might be sown, and also some English seed, the 
expense being so very trifling compared with 
the value of the object. At any rate, by saving 
some seed, a man has something to sow ; and 
he has it always ready. He might change his 
seed once in three or four years. But, never 
forgetting carefully to select the plants, from 
which the seed is to be raised. 



268 SWEDISH TURNIPS. [pART II. 



POSTSCRIPT TO THE CHAPTER ON SWEDISH 
TURNIPS. 

247. Since writing the above, I have seeii 
Mr. Judge Mitchell, and having requested 
him to favour me with a written account of his 
experiment, he has obhgingly complied with 
my request in a letter, which I here insert, 
together with my answer. 

Ploudome, 7 Dec. 1818. 
Dear Sir, 

248. About the first of June last, I received 
the First Part of your Years Residence in the 
United States, which I was much pleased with, 
and particularly the latter part of the book, 
which contains a treatise on the culture of the 
Ruta Baga. This mode of culture was new 
to me, and I thought it almost impossible that 
a thousand bushels should be raised from one 
acre of ground. However, I felt very anxious 
to try the experiment in a small way. 

24i). Accordingly, on the 6th day of June, I 
ploughed up a small piece of ground, joining 
my salt meadow, containing sixty-Jive rods, that 
had not been ploughed for nearly thirty years. 
I ploughed the ground deep, and spread on it 



CHAP. VI.] SWEDISH TURNIPS. 269 

about ten waggon loads of composiiion manure ; 
that is to say, rich earth and yard manure 
mixed in a heap, a layer of each alternately. 
I then harrowed the ground with an iron-toothed 
harrow, until the surface was mellow, and the 
manure well mixed with the earth. 

250. On the first of July 1 harrowed the 
ground over several times, and got the surface 
in good order ; but, in consequence of such late 
ploughing, I dared not venture to cross-plough, 
for fear of tearing up the sods, which were not 
yet rotten. On the 7th of July I ridged the 
ground, throwing four furrows together, and 
leaving the tops of the ridges four feet asunder, 
and without putting in any manure. I went 
very shoal with the plough, because deep 
ploughing would have turned up the sods. 

251. On the eighth of July I sowed the seed, 
in single rows on the tops of the ridges, on all 
the ridges except about eighteen. On eight of 
these I sowed the seed on the 1 9th of July, 
when the first sowing was up, and very severely 
attacked by the Jlea ; and I was fearful of losing 
the whole of the crop by that insect. About 
the last of July there came a shower, which 
gave the turnips a start ; and, on the eighth day 
of August I transplanted eight of the remaining 
rows, early in the morning. The weather was 
now very dry^ and the turnips sown on the 19th 



270 SWEDISH TURNIPS. [PART II. 

of July were just coming up. On tlie 10th of 
August I transplanted the two other rows at 
mid-day, and, in consequence of such dry wea- 
ther, the tops all died: but, in a few days, 
began to look green. And, in a few weeks, 
those that had been transplanted looked as 
thrifty as those that had been sown. 

252. On the 10th of August I regulated the 
sown rows, and left the plants standing from 
six to twelve inches apart. 

253. A part of the seed I received from you, 
and a part I had from France a few years ago. 
When I gathered the crop, the transplanted 
turnips were nearly as large as those that stood 
where they were sown. 

254. The following is the produce: Two 
hundred and two bushels on sixty-Jive rod of 
ground; a crop arising from a mode of cultiva- 
tion for which, Sir, T feel very much indebted 
to you. This crop, as you will perceive, wants 
but two bushels and a fraction osi five hundred 
bushels to the acre; and I verily believe, that, 
on this mode of cultivation, an acre of land, 
which will bring ahundred bushels oi corn ears, 
will produce from seve7i to eight hundred bushels 
of the Ruta Baga Turnip. 

255. Great numbers of my turnips weigh six 
pounds each. The greens were almost wholly 
destroyed by a caterjjillar, which 1 never before 



CHAP. VI.] SWEDISH TURNIPS. 271 

saw ; so that 1 had no opportunity of trying the 
use of them as cattle-food; but, as to the root^ 
cattle and hogs eat it greedily, and cattle as 
well as hogs eat up the little bits that remain 
attached to the fibres, when these are cut from 
the bulbs. 

256. I am now selling these turnips at half a 
dollar a bushel. 

257. With begging you to accept of my 
thanks for the useful information, which, in 
common with many others, 1 have received from 
your Treatise on this valuable plant, 

1 remain, 

Dear Sir, 
Your most obedient servant. 

Singleton Mitchell. 
To Mr, William Cobhett, 
Hyde Park. 

258. P. S. I am very anxious to see the 
Second Part of your Years Residence. When 
will it be published.'' 



ANSWER. 

Hyde Park, 9th Dec. 1818. 
Dear Sir, 

259. Your letter has given me very great 

pleasure. You have really tried the thing: 

X 



'272 SWEDISH TURNIPS. [PART II. 

you have given it a/air trial. Mr. Tull, when 
people said of his horse-hoing system, thai they 
had tried zV, and found it not to answer, used 
to reply: " What have they tried? all lies in 
" the little word IT." 

260. You have really tried it; and very in- 
teresting your account is. It is a complete 
answer to all those, who talk about loss of 
ground from four-feet ridges ; and especially 
when we compare your crop with that of Mr. 
James Byrd, of Flushing; whose ground was 
prepared at an early season ; who manured 
richly ; who kept his land like a neat garden ; 
and, in short, whose field was one of the most 
beautiful objects of which one can form an idea ; 
but, whose ridges were about two feet and a 
half apart, instead of four feety and who had 
three hundred and Jifty bushels to the acre, 
while you, with all your disadvantages of late 
ploughing and sods beneath, had at the rate 
oifive hundred bushels, 

261. From so excellent a judge as you are, 
to hear commendation of my little Treatise, 
must naturally be very pleasing to me, as it is 
a proof that I have not enjoyed the protection 
of America without doing something for it in 
return. Your example will be followed by 
thousands ; a new and copious source of human 
sustenance will be opened to a race of free and 



CHAP. VI.] SWEDISH TURNIPS. 273 

happy people; and to have been, though in the 
smallest degree, instrumental in the creating of 
this source, will always be a subject of great 
satisfaction, to, 

Dear Sir, 

Your most obedient. 

And most humble servant, 
Wm. Cobbett. 

262. P. S. I shall to-morrow send the Second 
Part of my Years Residence to the press. 1 
dare say it will be ready in three weeks. 

263. I conclude this chapter by observingy 
that a boroughmonger hirehng, who was actu- 
ally fed with pap, purchased by money paid to 
his father by the minister Pitt, ybr writing and 
puhlishing lies against the Prince of Wales and 
the Duke of York, the acknowledgment of the 
facts relating to which transaction, Isaiv in the 

father's own hand-writing; this hireling, when 
he heard of my arrival on Long Island, called 
it my Lemnos, which allusion will, I hope, 
prove not to have been wholly inapt; for, 
though my life is precisely the reverse of that of 
the unhappy Philoctetes, and though I do 
not hold the arrows of Hercules, 1 do possess 
arrows; 1 make them felt too at a great dis- 
tance, and, I am not certain, that my arrows 

X 2 



274 SWEDISH TURNIPS. [PART II. 

are not destined to be the only means of de- 
stroying the Trojan Boroughmongers. 

264. Having introduced a Judge here by 
name, it may not be amiss to say, for the in- 
formation of my English readers, what sort of 
persons these Long-Island Judges are. They 
are, some of them, Resident Judges, and others 
Circuit Judges. They are all gentlemen of 
known independerit fortune^ and of known ex- 
cellent characters and understanding. They re- 
ceive a mere acknowledgment for their services ; 
and they are, in all respects, liberal gentlemen. 
Those with whom I have the honour to be ac- 
quainted have fine and most beautiful estates ; 
and I am very sure, that what each actually 
expends in acts of hospitality and benevolence 
surpasses what such a man as Surrough, or 
Richards, or Railey, or Gibbs, or, indeed, any 
of the set, expends upon every thing, except 
taxes. Mr. Judge Laurence, who came to 
invite me to his house as soon as he heard of 
my landing on the Island, keeps a house such 
as I never either saw or heard of before. My 
-son James went with a message to him a little 
while ago, and, as he shot his way along, he was 
in his shooting dress. He found a whole house 
full of company, amongst whom were the cele- 
brated Dr. Mitchell and Mr. Clinton, the 



CHAP. VI.] SWEDISH TURNIPS. 275 

Governor of this state ; but, they made him stay 
and dine. Here was he, a boy, with his rough, 
shooting dress on, dining with Judges, Sheriffs, 
and Generals, and with the Chief Magistrate of 
a Commonwealth more extensive, more popu- 
lous, and forty times as rich as Scotland ; a 
Chief Magistrate of very great talents, but in 
whom empty pride forms no ingredient. Big 
wigs and long robes and supercilious airs, are 
necessary only when the object is to deceive 
and overawe the people. I'll engage that to 
supply Judge Laurence's house that one week 
required a greater sacrifice of animal life than 
merciful Gibbs's kitchen demands in a year: 
but, then, our hearty and liberal neighbour 
never deals in human sacrifices. 



376 roTATOEs. [part II. 



CHAP. VII. 



POTATOES. 



265. I HAVE made no experiments as to this 
root, and I am now about to offer my opinions 
as to the mode of cultivating it. But, so much 
has been said and wntten againsf; me on account 
of my scouting the idea of this root being pro- 
per asj'oodfor man, I will, out of respect for 
public opinion, here state my reasons for think- 
ing that the Potafoe is a root, worse thaii use- 
less. 

266. When I published some articles upon 
this subject, in England, I was attacked by the 
Irish writers with as much fury as the New- 
foundlanders attack people who speak against 
the Pope ; and with a great deal less reason ; 
for, to attack a system, which teaches people to 
fill their bellies with fish for the good of their 
souls, might appear to be dictated by malice 
against the sellers of the fish ; whereas, my at- 
tack upon Potatoes, was no attack upon the 
sons of St. Patrick, to whom, on the contrary, 
I wished a better sort of diet to be afforded. 
Nevertheless, I was told, in the Irish papers. 



CHAP. VII.] POTATOES. 277 

not that 1 was a fool: that might have been 
rational; but, when 1 was, by these zealous 
Hibernians, called a liai', a slanderer, a viper, 
and was reminded of all my political sins, T 
could not help thinking, that, to use an Irish 
Peeress's expression with regard to her Lord, 
there was a little of the Potatoe sprouting out 
of their head. 

267. These rude attacks upon me even were 
all nameless, however ; and, with nameless ad- 
versaries I do not like to join battle. Of one 
thing J am very glad ; and that is, that the 
Irish do not like to live upon what their accom- 
plished countryman Doctor Drennan, calls 
'' Ireland's laz^ root'' There is more sound 
political philosophy in that poem than in all the 
enormous piles of Plowden and Musgrave. 
When I called it a lazi/ root ; when I satyrized 
the use of it ; the Irish seemed to think, that 
their national honour was touched. But, I am 
happy to find, that it is not taste, hwinecessity^ 
which makes them mess-mates with the pig ; 
for when they come to this country ; they in- 
variably prefer to their '-^favourite root," not 
only fowls, geese, ducks and turkeys, but even 
the flesh of oxen, pigs and sheep ! 

268. In 1815, I wrote an article, which I 
will here insert, because it contains my opinions 
upon this subject. And when I have done 



278 POTATOES. [part II. 

that, I will add some calculations as to the 
couiparative value of an acre of wheat and an 
acre of potatoes. The article was a letter to 
the Editor of the Agricultural Magazine ; and 
was in the following words. 



To THE Editor of the Agricultural Ma- 
gazine. 
Sir, 

269. In an article of your Magazine for the 
month of September last, on the subject of 
my Letters to Lord Sheffield, an article with 
which, upon the whole, I have reason to be 
very proud, you express your dissent with me 
upon some matters, and particularly relative to 
potatoes. The passage to which I allude, is in 
these words : " As to a former diatribe of his 
" on Potatoes, we regarded it as a pleasant ex- 
*' ample of argument for argument's sake ; as 
" an agreeable jumble of truth and of mental 
" rambling." 

270. Now, Sir, 1 do assure you, that I never 
was more serious in my life, than when I wrote 
the essay, or, rather, casually made the ob- 
servations against the cultivation and use of 
this lu or se than useless root. If it was argument 
for argument's sake, no one, that 1 can recollect, 
ever did me the honour to sIf^ow that the argu- 



CHAP. VII.] POTATOES. 279 

ment was fallacious. I think it a subject of 
great importance ; I regard the praises of this 
root and the preference given to it before corn, 
and even some other roots, to have arisen from 
a sort of monkey-like imitation. It has become, 
of late years, the fashion to extol the virtues of 
potatoes, as it has been to admire the writings 
of Milton and Shakespear. God, almighty and 
all fore-seeing, first permitting his chief angel 
to be disposed to rebel against him ; his per- 
mitting him to enlist whole squadrons of angels 
under his banners ; his permitting this host to 
come and dispute with him the throne of 
heaven ; his permitting the contest to be long, 
and, at one time, doubtful ; his permitting the 
devils to bring cannon into this battle in the 
clouds ; his permitting one devil or angel, I 
forget which, to be split down the middle, from 
crown to crotch, as we split a pig ; his per- 
mitting the two halves, intestines and all, to go 
slap, up together again, and become a perfect 
body ; his, then, causing all the devil host to be 
tumbled head-long down into a place called 
Hell, of the local situation of which no man 
can have an idea ; his causing gates (iron gates 
too) to be erected to keep the devil in ; his per- 
mitting him to get out, nevertheless, and to 
come and destroy the peace and happiness of 
his new creation ; his causing his son to take a 



280 POTATOKS. [part 1 1. 

pair of compasses out of a drawer, to trace the 
form of the earth : all this, and, indeed, the 
whole of Milton's poem, is such barbarous 
trash, so outrageously offensive to reason and 
to common sense, that one is naturally led to 
wonder how it can have been tolerated by a 
people, amongst whom astronomy, navigation, 
and chemistry are understood. But, it is the 
fashion to turn up the eyes, when Paradise 
Lost is mentioned ; and, if you fail herein you 
want taste; you yvixwi judgment even, if you do 
not admire this absurd and ridiculous stuff, 
when, if one of your relations were to write a 
letter in the same strain, you would send him 
to a mad-house and take his estate. It is the 
sacrificing of reason to fashion. And as to the 
other " Divine Bard," the case is still more pro- 
voking. After his ghosts, witches, sorcerers, 
fairies, and monsters ; after his bombast and 
puns and smut, which appear to have been not 
much relished by his comparatively rude con- 
temporaries, had had their full swing ; after 
hundreds of thousands of pounds had been ex- 
pended upon embellishing his works ; after 
numerous commentators and engravers and 
painters and booksellers had got fat upon the 
trade ; ?SteY jubilees had been held in honour of 
his memory ; at a time when there were men, 
otherwise of apparently good sense, who were 



CHAP VII.] POTATOES. 1IS\ 

what was aptly enough termed Shakespear-mad. 
At this very moment an occurrence took place, 
which must have put an end, for ever, to this 
national folly, had it not been kept up by 
infatuation and obstinacy without parallel. 
Young Ireland, I think his name was Wil- 
liam, no matter from what motive, though I 
never could see any harm in his motive, and 
have always thought him a man most unjustly 
and brutally used. No matter, however, what 
were the inducing circumstances, or the motives, 
he did write, and bring forth, as being Shakes- 
pear's, some plays, a prayer, aud a love-letter. 
The learned men of England, Ireland and Scot- 
land met to examine these performances. Some 
doubted, a few denied; but, the far greater part, 
amongst whom were Dr. Parr, Dr. Wharton, 
and Mr. George Chalmers, declared, in the 
most positive terms, that no man but Shakespear 
could have written those things. There was a 
division ; but this division arose more fi'om a 
suspicion of some trick, than from any thing to 
be urged against the merit of the writings. The 
plays went so far as to be ACTED. Long 
lists of subscribers appeared to the work. 
And, in short, it was decided, in the most 
unequivocal manner, that this young man of 
sixteen years of age had written so nearly like 
Shakespear, that a majority of the learned and 



282 POTATOES. [part II. 

critical classes of the nation most firmly believ- 
ed the writings to be Shakespear's ; and, there 
cannot be a doubt, that, if Mr. Ireland had 
been able to keep his secret, they would have 
passed for Shakespear's 'till the time shall come 
when the whole heap of trash will, by the na- 
tural good sense of the nation, be consigned to 
everlasting oblivion ; and, indeed, as folly ever 
doats on a darling, it is very likely, that these 
last found productions of " our immortal hard" 
would have been regarded as his best. Yet, in 
spite of all this ; in spite of what one would 
have thought was sufficient to make blind 
people see, the fashion has been kept up ; and, 
what excites something more than ridicule and 
contempt, Mr. Ireland, whose writings had 
been taken for Shakespear's, was, when he 
made the discovery y treated as an impostor and 
a cheats and hunted down with as much ran- 
cour as if he had written against the buying 
and selling of seats in Parliament. The learned 
men ; the sage critics ; the Shakespear-mad folks ; 
were all so ashamed^ that they endeavoured to 
draw the public attention from themselves to 
the young man. It was of his impositions that 
they now talked, and not of their own folly. 
When the witty clown, mentioned in Don 
Quixote, put the nuncio's audience to shame 
by pulling the real pig out from under his 



CHAP. VII.] POTATOES. 283 

cloak, we do not find that that audience were, 
like our learned men, so unjust as to pursue 
him with reproaches and with every act that a 
vindictive mind can suggest. They perceived 
how foolish they had been, they hung down 
their heads in silence, and, I dare say, would 
not easily be led to admire the mountebank 
again. 

271. It is fashion, Sir, to which in these 
most striking instances, sense and reason have 
yielded ; and it is to fashion that the potatoe 
owes its general cultivation and use. If you 
ask me whether fashion can possibly make a 
nation prefer one sort of diet to another, I ask 
you what it is that can make a nation admire 
Shakespear ? What is it that can make them 
call him a " Divine Bard," nine-tenths of whose 
works are made up of such trash as no decent 
man, now-a-days, would not be ashamed, and 
even afraid, to put his name to? What can 
make an audience in London sit and hear, and 
even applaud, under the name of Shakespear, 
what they would hoot off the stage in a moment, 
if it came forth under any other name ? When 
folly has once given the fashion she is a very 
persevering dame. An American writer, whose 
name is George Dorsey, I believe, and who 
has recently published a pamphlet, called, "The 
" United States and England, &c." being a 



284 POTATOES. [part II, 

reply to an attack on the morals and govern- 
ment and learning of the Americans, in the 
•' Qnarterly Review," states, as matter of jus- 
tification, that the People of America sigh 
with delight to see the plays of Shakespear, 
whom they claim as their countryman; an ho- 
nour, if it be disputed, of which I will make 
any of them a voluntary surrender of my share. 
Now, Sir, what can induce the American to sit 
and hear with delight the dialogues of Falstaff 
and Poins, and Dame Quickely and Doll Tear- 
sheet? What can restrain them from pelting 
Parson Hugh, Justice Shallow, Bardolph, and 
the whole crew off the stage? What can make 
them endure a ghost cap-a-pie, a prince, who, 
ioY justice sake, pursues his uncle and his mo- 
ther, and who stabs an old gentleman in sport, 
and cries out " dead for a ducat ! dead !" What 
can they find to " delight" them in punning 
clowns, in ranting heroes, in sorcerers, ghosts, 
witches, fairies, monsters, sooth-sayers, dream- 
ers ; in incidents out of nature, in scenes most 
unnecessarily bloody. How they must be de- 
lighted at the story of Lear putting the ques- 
tion to his daughters of vjhich loved him most, 
and then dividing his kingdom among them, 
according to their professions of love; how de- 
lighted to see the fantastical disguise of Edgar, 
the treading out Gloucester s eyes, and the trick 



CHAP. VII.] POTATOES. 283 

by which it is pretended he was made to be- 
lieve, that he had actually fallen from the top 
of the cliff! How they must be delighted to 
see the stage filled with green boughs, like a 
coppice, as in Macbeth, or streaming like a 
slaughter-house, as in Titus Andronicus ! How 
the young girls in America must be tickled 
with delight at the dialogues in Troilus and 
Cressida, and more especially at the pretty ob- 
servations of the Nurse, 1 think it is, in Romeo 
and Juliet! But, it is the same all through the 
work. I know of one other, and onl^ one othei\ 
book, so obscene as this ; and, if I were to judge 
from the high favour in which these two books 
seem to stand, [ should conclude, that wild and 
improbable fiction, bad principles of morality 
and politicks, obscurity in meaning, bombas- 
tical language, forced jokes, puns, and smut, 
were fitted to the minds of the people. But I 
do not thus judge. It is Jashion. These books 
are in fashion. Every one is ashamed not to 
be in the fashion. It is the fashion to extol 
potatoes, and to eat potatoes. Every one joins 
in extolling potatoes, and all the world like 
potatoes, or pretend to like them, which is the 
same thing in effect. 

272. [n those memorable years of wisdom, 
1800 and 1801, you can remember, [ dare say, 
the grave discussions in Parliament about pota- 



"286 POTATOES. [part II. 

toes. It was proposed by some one to make a 
laiv to encourage the growth of them; and, if 
the Bill did not pass, it was, I believe, owing 
to the ridicule which Mr. Home Tooke threw 
upon that whole system of petty legislation. 
Will it be believed, in another century, that the 
law-givers of a great nation actually passed a 
law to compel people to eat pollard in their 
bread, and that, too, not for the purpose of 
degrading or punishing, but for the purpose of 
doing the said people good by adding to the 
quantitt/ of bread in a time of scarcity ? Will 
this be believed? In every bushel of wheat 
there is a certain proportion oi flour, suited to 
the appetite and the stomach of man ; and a 
certain proportion of pollard and hran, suited 
to the appetite and stomach of pigs, cows, and 
sheep. But the parliament of the years of wis- 
dom wished to cram the ivhole down the throat 
of man, together with the flour of other grain. 
And what was to become of the pigs, cows, 
and sheep? Whence were the pork, butter, and 
mutton to come? And were not these articles 
of human food as well as bread ? The truth is, 
that pollard, bran, and the coarser kinds of 
grain, when given tO cattle, make these cattle 
fat ; but when eaten by man make him lean and 
weak. And yet this bill actually became a 
law! 



CHAP. VII.] POTATOES. 287 

273. That period of wisdom was also the 
period of the potatoe-inania. Bulk was the 
only thing sought after ; and, it is a real fact, 
that Pitt did suggest the making of beer out of 
straw. Bulk was all that was looked after. If 
the scarcity had continued a year longer, I 
should not have been at all surprized, if it had 
been proposed to feed the people at rack and 
manger. But, the Potatoe! Oh! What a 
blessing to man ! Lord Grenville, at a birth- 
day dinner given to the foreign ambassadors, 
used not a morsel of bread, but, instead of it, 
\iii\e potatoe cakes^ though he had, I dare say, 
a plenty of lamb, poultry, pig, &c. All of 
which had been fatted upon corn or meal, in 
whole or in part. Yes, Sir, potatoes will do 
very well along with plenty of animal food, 
which has heen fatted on something better than 
potatoes. But, when you and I talk of the use 
of them, we must consider them in a very dif- 
ferent light. 

274. The notion is, that potatoes are cheaper 
than wheat^ot^r. This word cheap is not quite 
expressive enough, but it will do for oi;ir pre- 
sent purpose. I shall consider the . cost of 
potatoes, in a family, compared with that of 
flour. It will be best to take the simple case 
of the labouring man. 



288 POTATOES. [part II. 

275. The price of a bushel of fine flour, at 
Botley, is, at this time, 10*. The weight is 
36 lbs. The price of a bushel of potatoes is 2s. 6d. 
They are just now dug up, and are at the 
cheapest. A bushel of potatoes which are mea- 
sured by a large bushel, weighs about 60 lbs. 
dirt and all, for they are sold unwashed. Allow 
4 lbs. for dirt, and the weights are equal. Well, 
then, here is toiling Dick with his four bushels 
of potatoes, and John with his bushel of flour. 
But, to be fair, I must allow, that the relative 
price is not always so much in favour of flour. 
Yet, I think you will agree with me, that upon 
an average, five bushels of potatoes do cost aft 
much as one bushel of flour. You know very 
well, that potatoes in London, sell for Id. and 
sometimes for 2d, a pound; that is to say, 
sometimes for 1/. 7*. 6d. and sometimes for 
21. \5s. the five bushels. This is notorious. 
Every reader knows it. And did you ever 
hear of a bushel of flour selling for 21. I5s. 
Monstrous to think of! And yet the trades- 
man's wife, looking narrowly to every halfpenny, 
trudges away to the potatoe shop to get five or 
six pounds of this wretched root for the pur- 
pose of saving flour ! She goes and gives \0d. 
for ten pounds of potatoes, when she might buy 
five pounds of flour with the same money I 



CHAP. VII.] POTATOES. 289 

Before her potatoes come to the table, they are, 
even in bulk, less than 5 lbs. or even 3 lbs. of flour 
made into a pudding. Try the experiment 
yourself Sir, and you will soon be able to ap- 
preciate the economy of this dame. 

276. But, to return to Dick and John ; the 
former has got his five bushels of potatoes, and 
the latter his bushel of flour. I shall, by and by, 
have to observe upon the stock that Dick must 
lay in, and upon the stowage that he must have ; 
but, at present, we will trace these two com- 
modities in their way to the mouth and in their 
effects upon those who eat them. Dick has 
got five bushels at once, because he could have 
them a little cheaper. John may have his Peck 
or Gallon of flour : for that has a fixed and in- 
discriminating price. It requires no trick in 
dealing, no judgment, as in the case of th^ 
roots, which may be wet, or hollow, or hot; 
flour may be sent for by any child able to carry 
the quantity wanted. However, reckoning Dick's 
trouble and time nothing in getting home his 
five bushels of potatoes, and supposing him to 
have got the right sort, a ^^Jine sort," which he 
can hardly fail of, indeed, since the whole nation 
i» now full of *' fine sort," let us now see how 
he goes to work to consume them. He has a 
piece of bacon upon the rack, but he mugt 
have some potatoes too. On goes the pot, but 

y2 



290 POTATOES. [part II. 

there it may as well hang, for we shall find it in 
continual requisition. For this time the meat and 
roots boil together. But, what is Dick to have 
for supper? Bread ? No. He shall not have 
bread, unless he will have bread for dinner. 
Put on the Pot again for supper. Up an hour 
before day light and on with the pot. Fill your 
luncheon-bag, Dick: nothing is so relishing and 
so strengthening out in the harvest-field, or 
ploughing on a bleak hill in winter, as a cold 
potatoe. But, be sure, Dick, to wrap your bag 
well up in your clothes, during winter, or, 
when you come to lunch, you may, to your 
great surprise, find your food transformed into 
pebbles. Home goes merry Dick, and on goes 
the pot again. Thus 1095 times in the year 
Dick's pot must boil. This is, at least, a thou- 
sand times oftener than with a bread and meat 
diet. Once a week baking and once a week 
boiling, is as much as a farm house used to re- 
quire. There must be some fuel consumed in 
winter for warmth. But here are, at the least, 
500 fires to be made for the sake of these pota- 
toes, and, at a penny a fire, the amount is more 
than would purchase four bushels of flour, 
which would make 288 lbs. of bread, which at 
7 lbs. of bread a day, would keep John's family 
m bread for 41 days out of the 365. This J state 
as a fact challenging contradiction, that, ex- 



CHAP. VII.] POTATOES^. 291 

elusive of the extra labour^ occasioned by the 
cookery of potatoes, thie fuel required, in a 
year, for a bread diet, would cost, in any part 
of the kingdom, more than would keep a family, 
even in baker's bread for 41 days in the year, 
at the rate of 71 lbs. of bread a day. 

277. John, on the contrary, lies and sleeps 
on Sunday morning 'till about 7 o'clock. He 
then gets a bit of bread and meat, or cheese, if 
he has either. The mill gives him his bushel 
of flour in a few minutes. His wife has baked 
during the week. He has a pudding on Sun- 
day, and another batch of bread, before the 
next Sunday. The moment he is up, he is off 
to his stable, or the field, or the coppice. His 
breakfast and luncheon are in his bag. In spite 
of frost he finds them safe and sound. They 
give him heart, and enable him to go through 
the day. His 56 lbs. of flour, with the aid of 
26?. in yeast, bring him 72 lbs. of bread ; while, 
after the dirt and peelings and waste are de- 
ducted, it is very doubtful whether Dick's 
300 lbs. of potatoes bring 200 lbs, of even this 
watery diet to his lips. It is notorious, that in 
a pound of clean potatoes there are 11 ounces 
of water, half an ounce of earthy matter, an 
ounce oi Jihrous and strawey stuff, and I know 
not what besides. The ivater can do Dick no 
good, but he must swallow these 11 ounces of 



292 POTATOES. [part II. 

water in every pound of potatoes. How far 
earth and straw may tend to fatten or strengthen 
cunning Dick, I do not know; but, at any rate, 
it is certain, that, while he is eating as much of 
potatoe as is equal in nutriment to lib. of bread, 
he must swallow about 14 oz. of water, earth, 
straw, &c. for, down they must go altogether, 
like the Parliament's bread in the years of 
wisdom, 1800 and 1801. But, suppose every 
pound of potatoes to bring into Dick's stomach 
a 6th part in nutritious matter, including in 
the gross pound all the dirt, eyes, peeling, and 
other inevitable waste. Divide his gross 300 lbs. 
by 6, and you will find him with 50 lbs. of nu- 
tritious matter for the same sum that John has 
laid out in 72 lbs. of nutritious matter, besides 
the price of 288 lbs. of bread in a year, which 
Dick lays out in extra fuel for the eternal boil- 
ings of his pot. Is it any wonder that his 
cheeks are like two bits of loose leather, while 
he is pot-bellied, and weak as a cat ? In order 
to ^ei half a pound of nutritious matter into 
him, he must swallow about 50 ounces of 
water, earth, and straw. Without ruminating 
faculties how is he to bear this cramming? 

278. But, Dick's disadvantages do not stop 
here. He must lay in his store at the beginning 
of winter^ or he must buy through the nose. 
And, where is he to find stowage? He has no 



CHAP. VII.] POTATOES. 29S 

caves. He may pie them in the garden, if he 
has none; but, he must not open the pie in 
frosty weather. It is a fact not to be disputed, 
that a full tenth of the potatoe crop is destroyed, 
upon an average of years, by the frost. His 
wife, or stout daughter, cannot go out to work 
to help to earn the means of buying potatoes. 
She must stay at home to boil the pot, the ever- 
lasting pot ! There is no such thing as a cold 
dinner. No such thing as women sitting down on. 
a hay-cock, or a shock of wheat, to their dinner,, 
ready to jump up at the approach of the shower. 
Home they must tramp, if it be three miles, to 
the fire that ceaseth not, and the pot as black, 
as Satan. No wonder, that in the brightest 
and busiest seasons of the year, you see from 
every cottage door, staring out at you, as you 
pass, a smoky-capped, greasy-heeled woman. 
The pot, which keeps her at home, also gives 
her the colour of the chimney, while long inac- 
tivity swells her heels. 

279. Now, Sir, I am quite serious in these 
my reasons against the use of this root, as food 
for man. As food for other animals, in pro- 
portion to its cost, 1 know it to be the worst of 
all roots that I know any thing of; but, that is 
another question. I have here been speaking 
of it as food for man ; and, if it be more expen^ 
sive than flour to th« labourer in the cowitry. 



294 POTATOES. [part n. 

who, at any rate, can stow it in pies, what must 
it be to tradesman's and artizan's families in 
towns, who can lay in no store, and who must 
buy by the ten pound or quarter of a hundred 
at a time? When broad-faced Mrs. Wilkins 
tells Mrs. Tomkins, that, so that she has " a 
*^ potatoe" for her dinner, she does not care a far- 
thing for bread, 1 only laugh, knowing that she 
will twist doM^n a half pound of beef with her 
" potatoe," and has twisted down half a pound 
of buttered toast in the morning, and means to 
do the same at tea time without prejudice to 
her supper and grog. But when Mrs. Tomkins 
gravely answers, "yes. Ma'am, there is nothing 
** like a potatoe; it is such 2i saving in a family," 
I really should not be very much out of humour 
to see the tete-a-tete broken up by the appli- 
cation of a broom-stick. 

280. However, Sir, I am talking to you now, 
and, as I am not aware that there can be any 
impropriety in it, 1 now call upon you to show, 
that 1 am really wrong in my notions upon this 
subject; and this, J think you are, in some 
sort bound to do, seeing that you have, in a 
public manner, condemned them. 

281. But, there remains a very important 
part of the subject yet undiscussed. For, 
though you should be satisfied, that 300 lbs. of 
potatoes are not, taking every thing into consi- 



CHAP. VII.] POTATOES. 295 

deration, more than equal to about 30 lbs. of 
flour, you may be of opinion, that the dispro- 
portion in the bulk of the crops is, in favour of 
potatoes, more than sufficient to compensate 
for this. I think this is already clearly enough 
settled by the relative prices of the contending 
commodities; for, if the quantity of produce 
was on the side of potatoes, their price would 
be in proportion. 

282. I have heard of enormous crops of po- 
tatoes; as high, I believe, as 10 tons grow 
upon an acre. 1 have heard of 14 sacks of 
wheat upon an acre. I never saw above 10 
grow upon an acre. The average crop of wheat 
is about 24 bushels, in this part of England, 
and the average crop of potatoes about 6 tons. 
The weight of the wheat 1,440 lbs. and that of 
the potatoes 13,440 lbs. Now, then, if I am 
right in what has been said above, this hulk of 
potatoes barely keeps place with that of the 
wheat; for, if a bushel of wheat does not make 
56 lbs. oi flour, it weighs 60 lbs. and leaves 
pollard and bran to make up the deficiency. 
Then, as to the cost: the ground must be 
equally good. The seed is equally expensive. 
But the potatoes must be cultivated during 
their growth. The expense of digging and 
cartage and stowage is not less than 11. an acre 
at present prices. The expense of reaping, 



•290 POTATOES. [part II. 

housing, and threshing is, at present prices, IO5. 
less. The potatoes leave no straw, the wheat 
leaves straw, stubble, and gleanings for pigs. 
The straw is worth, at least, 3/. an acre, at pre- 
sent prices. It is, besides, absolutely necessary. 
It litters, in conjunction with other straw, all 
sorts of cattle; it sometimes helps to feed them; 
it covers half the buildings in the kingdom; 
and makes no small part of the people's beds. 
The potatoe is a robber in all manner of ways. 
It largely takes from the farm-yard, and returns 
little, or nothing to it ; it robs the land more 
than any other plant or root, it robs the eaters 
of their time, their fuel, and their health ; and, 
I agree fully with Monsieur Tissot, that it 
robs them of their mental powers. 

283. I do not deny, that it is a pleasant 
enough thing to assist in sending down lusty 
Mrs. Wilkins's good half-pound of fat roast- 
beef. Two or three ounces of water, earth, and 
straw, can do her no harm ; but, when I see a 
poor, little, pale-faced, life-less, pot-bellied boy 
peeping out at a cottage door, where 1 ought to 
meet with health and vigour, I cannot help 
cursing the fashion, which has given such ge- 
neral use to this root, as food for man. How- 
ever, I must say, that the chief ground of my 
antipathy to this root is, that it tends to debase 
the common people, as every thing does, which 



CHAP. VII.j POTATOES. 297 

brings their mode of living to be nearer that of 
cattle. The man and his pig, in the potatoe 
system, live pretty much upon the same diet, 
and eat nearly in the same manner, and out of 
nearly the same utensil. The same eternally- 
boiling pot cooks their common mess. Man, 
being master, sits at the first table ; but, if his 
fellow-feeder comes after him, he will wot fatten^ 
though he will live upon the same diet. Mr. 
Cur WEN found potatoes to supply the place of 
hay^ being first w^// cooked; but, they did not 
supply the place of oats ; and yet fashion has 
made people believe, that they are capable of 
supplying the place of bread! It is notorious, 
that nothing ^'\\\ fatten on potatoes alone. Car- 
rots, parsnips, cabbages, will, in time, fatten 
sheep and oxen, and, some of them, pigs ; but, 
upon potatoes alone, no animal that 1 ever heard 
of will fatten. And yet, the gi*eater part, and, 
indeed, all the other roots and plants here 
mentioned, will yield, upon ground of the same 
quality, three or four times as heavy a crop as 
potatoes, and will, too, for a long while, set the 
frosts at defiance. 

284. If, Sir, you do me the honour to read 
this letter, 1 shall have taken up a good deal of 
your time ; but the subject is one of much im- 
portance in rural economy, and therefore, can- 



298 POTATOES. [part II. 

not be wholly uninteresting to you. I will not 
assume the sham modesty to suppose, that my 
manner of treating it makes me unworthy of an 
answer; and, I must confess, that I shall be 
disappointed unless you make a serious attempt 
to prove to me, that [ am in error. 
1 am, Sir, 
Your most obedient. 

And most humble Servant, 
Wm. Cobbett. 



285. Now, observe, 1 never received any 
answer to this. Much abuse. New torrents of 
abuse; and, in language still more venomous 
than the former; iovnow the Milton and Shake- 
spear men, the critical ParsonSy took up the 
pen ; and, when you have an angry Priest for 
adversary, it is not the common viper, but the 
rattle-snake that you have to guard against. 
However, as no one put his name to what he 
wrote, my remarks went on producing their 
effect; and a very considerable effect they had. 

286. About the same time Mr. Timothy 
Brown of Peckham Lodge, who is one of the 
most U7idersta7iding and most worthy men I ever 
had the honour to be acquainted with, furnished 
me with the following comparative estimate re- 
lative to wheat and potatoes. 



CHAP. VII.] POTATOES. 299 

PRODUCE OF AN ACRE OF WHEAT. 

287. Forty bushels is 3. good crop; but from 
fifty to sixty may be grown. 

Pounds of Wheat. 
40 bushels 60 pounds a bushel . . 2,400 

45| pounds of flour to each 

bushel of wheat . . . . 1820 

13 pounds of offal to each 
bushel ....... 520 

Waste 60 

2,400 

The worth of offal is about 
that of one bushel of flour ; 
and the worth of straw, 2 
tons, each worth 21. is 
equal to six bushels of 
flour ....... 318i 

Pounds of Flour. 

So that the total yield, in flour, is . 2,139 

Pounds of Breaa. 

Which will make of bread, at the 
rate of 9 pounds of bread from 7 
pounds of flour 2,739| 



300 POTATOES. [part H. 



PRODUCE OF AN ACRE OP POTATOES. 

288. Seven tons, or 350 bushels, is a good 
crop ; but ten tons, or 500 bushels may be 
grown. 

Pcnmds of Potatoes, 

Ten tons, or 22,400 



Pound* of Flour. 

Ten pounds of Potatoes contain 

one pound of flour 2,240 



Pounds of Bread. 

Which would, if it were possible 
to extract the flour and get it in 
a dry state, make of bread . . 2,880 



289. Thus, then, the nul/ritious contents of 
the Potatoes surpasses that of the wheat but 
by a few pounds ; but to get at those contents, 
unaccompanied with nine times their weight in 
earth, straw, and water, is impossible. Nine 
pounds of earth, straw and water must, then, 
be swallowed, in order to get at the one pound 
pf flour ! 

290. I beg to be understood ?is saying no- 
thing against the cultivation of potatoes in any 
place, or near any place where there are people 
willing to consume them at half a dollar 



CHAP. Vil.] POTATOES. 301 

a bushel, when wheat is two dollars a bushel. 
H any one will buy dh't to eat, and if one can 
get dirt to him with more profit than one can get 
wheat to him, let us supply him with dirt by all 
means. It is his taste to eat dirt; and, if his 
taste have nothing immoral in it, let him, in the 
name of all that is ridiculous, follow his taste. 
I know a prime Minister, who picks his nose and 
regales himself with the contents. I solemnly 
declare this to be true. 1 have witnessed the 
worse than beastly act scores of times; and yet 
I do not know, that he is much more of a beast 
than the greater part of his associates. Yet, if 
this were all ; if he were chargeable with no- 
thing but this ; if he would confine his swallow 
to this, I do not know that the nation would 
have any right to interfere between his nostrils 
and his gullet. 

291. Nor do I say, that it is filthy to eat 
potatoes. T do not ridicule the using of them 
as sauce. What I laugh at is, the idea of the 
use of them being a saving ; of their going fur- 
ther than bread ; of the cultivation of them in 
lieu of wheat adding to the human sustenance of 
a country. This is what I laugh at; and laugh 
I must as long as 1 have the above estimate 
before me. 

292. As food for cattle, sheep or hogs, this 



302 POTATOES. [part II. 

is the worst of all the green and root crops; 
but, of this 1 have said enough before; and, 
therefore, 1 now dismiss the Potatoe with the 
hope, that 1 shall never again have to v^rrite the 
word, or to see the thin^. 



CHAP. VIII.] COWS, SHEEP, HOGS, &C. 303 



CHAP. Vlll. 

cows, SHEEP, HOGS, AND POULTRY. 

293 Cows. — With respect to cows, need we 
any other facts than those of Mr. Byrd to 
prove how advantageous the Swedish turnip 
culture must be to those who keep cows in 
order to make butter and cheese. The greens 
come to supply the place of grass, and to add 
a month to the feeding on green food. They 
come just at the time when cows, in this coun- 
try, are /^^ go dry. It is too hard work to 
squeeze butter out of straw and corn stalks; 
and, if you could get it out, it would not, 
pound for pound, be nearly so good as lard, 
though it would be full as white. To give 
cows Jine hay no man thinks of; and, there- 
fore, dry they must be from November qntil 
March, though a good piece of cabbages adc^ed 
to the turnip greens would keep them on in 
milk to their calving time; or, 'till within a 
month of it at any rate. The bulbs of Swedish 
turnips are too valuable td give to cows ; but 
the cabbages, which are so easily raised, may 
be made subservient to their use. 

z 



304 cows, SHEEP, HOGS, &C. [PART IT. 

294. Sheep. — In the First Part I have said 
how I fed my sheep upon Swedish turnips. I 
have now only to add, that, in the case of 
early lambs for market, cabbages, and especially 
savoi/s, in February and March, would be ex- 
cellent for the ewes. Sheep love green. In a 
turnip field, they never touch the bulb, till 
every bit of green is eaten. I would, therefore, 
for this purpose, have some cabbages, and, if 
possible, of the savoy kind. 

295. Hogs. — This is the main object, when 
we talk of raising green and root crops, no 
matter how near to or how far from the spot 
where the produce of the farm is to be con- 
sumed. For, pound for pound, the hog is the 
most valuable animal; and, whether fresh or 
salted, is the most easily conveyed. Swedish 
turnips or cabbages or Mangel Wurzel will 

fatten an ox; but, that which would, in four 
or five months fatten the ox, would keep fifteen 
August Pigs from the grass going to the grass 
coming, on Long Island. Look at their worth 
in June, and compare it with the few dollars 
that you have got by fatting the ox ; and look 
also at the manure in the two cases. A farmer, 
on this Island fatted two oxen last winter 
upon corn. He told me, after he had sold 
them, that, if he had given the oxen away, and 
sold the corn, he should have had more money 



CHAP. VIII.] COWS, SHEEP, HOGS, &C. 305 

in his pocket. But, if he had kept, through 
the winter, four or five summer pigs upon this 
corn, would they have eaten all his corn to no 
purpose? l am aware, that pigs get something 
at an ox-stable door; but, what a process is 
this ! 

296. My hogs are now living wholly upon 
Swedish turnip greens^ and, though I have taken 
no particular pains about the matter, they look 
very well, and, for store hogs and sows, are as 
fat as I wish them to be. My English hogs 
are sleek, and fit ior fresh pork; and all the 
hogs not only eat the greens but do w ell upon 
them. But, observe, 1 give them plenty three 
times a day. In the forenoon we get a good 
waggon load, and that is for three meals. This 
is a main thing, this plenty; and, the farmer 
must see to it with his OWN EYES ; for, 
workmen are all starvers, except of themselves. 
1 never had a man in my life, who would not 
starve a hog, if I would let him ; that is to say, 
if the food was to be got by some labour. You 
must, therefore, see to this; or, you do not try 
the thing at all. 

297. Turnip greens are, however, by no 

means equal to cabbages, or even to cabbage 

leaves. The cabbage, and even the leaf, is the 

fruit of the plant ; which is not tl^ case with the 

Turnip green. Therefore the latter must, 

z 2 



306 cows, SHEEP, HOGS, &C. [PART II. 

especially when they follow summer cab- 
bages, be given in greater proportionate quan- 
tities. 

298. As to the hulb of the Swedish turnip,! have 
said enough, in the First Part, as food for hogs ; 
and I should not have mentioned the matter 
again, had I not been visited by two gentlemen, 
who came on purpose (from a great distance) to 
see, whether hogs realli/ would eat Swedish 
turnips ! Let not the English farmers laugh at 
this ; let them not imagine, that the American 
farmers are a set of simpletons on this account : 
for, only about thirty years ago, the English 
farmers would, not, indeed, have gone a great 
distance to ascertain the fact, but would have 
said at once, that the thing was false. It is 
not more than about four hundred years since 
the Londoners were wholly supplied with cab- 
bages, spinage, turnips, carrots, and all sorts 
of garden stuff ^rom Flanders. And now, I 
suppose, that one single parish in Kent grows 
more garden stuff than all Flanders. The first 
settlers came to America long and long before 
even the tvhite turnip made its appearance in 
\\\Q fields m England. The successors of the 
first settlers trod in the foot-steps of their fa- 
thers. The communication with England did 
not bi-ing out good English farmers. Books 
made little impression unaccompanied with ac- 



CHAP. VIII.] COWS, SHEEP, HOGS, &C. 307 

tual experiments on the spot. It was reserved 
for the Boroughmongers, armed with gags, 
halters, and axes, to drive from England expe- 
rience and public spirit sufficient to introduce 
the culture of the green and root crops to the 
fields of America. 

299. The first gentleman, who came to see whe- 
ther hogs would eat Swedish turnips saw some 
turnips tossed down on the grass to the hogs, 
which were eating sweet little loaved cabbages. 
However, they eat the turnips too before they 
left off. The second, who came on the after- 
noon of the same day, saw the hogs eat some 
bulbs chopped up. The hogs were pretty 
hungry, and the quantity of turnips small, and 
there was such a shoving and pushing about 
amongst the hogs to snap up the bits, that the 
gentleman observed, that they *' liked them as 
" well as cornr 

300. In paragraph 134 I related a fact of a 
neighbour of mine in Hampshire having given 
his Swedish turnips, after they hadhorne seed, to 
some lean pigs, and had, with that food, made 
them fit ior fresh pork, and sold them as such. 
A gentleman from South Carolina was here in 
July last, and I brought some of mine which 
had then home seed. They were perfectly sound. 
The hogs ate them as well as if they had not 
borne seed. We boiled some in the kitchen for 



308 cows, SHEEP, HOGS, &C. [PART II. 

dinner ; and they appeared as good as those 
eaten in the winter. This shews clearly how 
well this root keeps. 

30 1 . Now, these facts being, I hope, undoubted, 
is it not surprising, that, in many parts of this 
fine country, it is the rule to keep only one pig 
for every cow ! The cow seems as necessary to 
the pig as the pig's mouth is necessary to his 
carcass. There are, for instance, six cows ; 
therefore, when they begin to give milk in the 
spring, six pigs are set on upon the milk, which 
is given them with a suitable proportion of pot 
liquor (a meat pot) and of rye, or Indian, meal, 
making a diet far superior to that of the fami- 
lies of labouring men in England. Thus the 
pigs go on 'till the time when the cows (for 
want of moist food) become dry. Then the pigs 
are shut up, and have the new sweet Indian 
corn heaped into their stye till they are quite 
fat, being half fat, mind, all the summer long, 
as they run barking and capering about. Some- 
times they turn sulky, however, and will not eat 
enough of the corn ; and well they may, seeing 
that they are deprived of their viilk. Take a 
child from its pap all at once, and you will find, 
that it will not, for a long while, relish its new 
diet. What a system ! but if it must be per- 
severed in, there might, it appears to me, be a 
great improvement made even in it; for, the 



CHAP. VIII.] COWS, SHEEP, HOGS, &C. 309 

labour of milking and of the subsequent opera- 
tions, all being performed by women, is of great 
inconvenience. Better let each pig suck its 
adopted mother at once, which would save a 
monstrous deal of labour, and prevent all pos- 
sibility of waste. There would be no slopping 
about ; and, which is a prime consideration in 
a dairy system, there would be clean milkhig ; 
for, it has been proved by Doctor Anderson, 
that the last drop is fourteen times as good as 
the first drop; and, I will engage, that the 
grunting child of the lowing mother would have 
that last drop twenty times a day, or would pull 
the udder from her body. I can imagine but 
one difficulty that can present itself to the mind 
of any one disposed to adopt this improve- 
ment ; and that is, the teaching of the pig to 
suck the cow. This will appear a difficulty to 
those only who think unjustly of the under- 
standings of pigs : and, for their encourage- 
ment, I beg leave to refer them to Daniel's 
Rural Sports, where they will find, that, in 
Hampshire, Sir John Mildmay's gamekeeper, 
Toomer, taught a sow to point at partridges 
and other game; to quarter her ground like a 
pointer, to back the pointers, when she hunted 
with them, and to be, in all respects, the most 
docile pointer of the finest nose. This fact is 
true beyond all doubt. It is known to many 



310 cows, SHEEP, HOGS, &C. [PART U, 

men now alive. Judge, then, how easily a pig 
might be taught to milk a cow, and what a 
" saving of labour'' this would produce ! 

302, It is strange what comfort men derive even 
from the deceptions which they practice upon 
themselves. The milk and fat pot-liquor and 
meal are, when put together, called, in Long 
Island, stvill. The word comes from the farm- 
houses in England, but it has a new meaning 
attached to it. There it means the mere wash; 
the mere drink given to store hogs. But, here 
it means rich Jailing food. " There, friend 
" Cobbett," said a gentleman to me, as we looked 
at his pigs, in September last, " do thy English 
"pigs look better than these?" "No," said 
I, " but what do these live on?" He said he 
had given them all summer, " nothing but 
" stviir "Aye," said I, ''hnt what is swill?" It 
was, for six pigs, nothing at all, except the 
milk of six very fine coivs, with a bin of shorts 
and meal always in requisition, and with the 
daily supply of liquor from a pot and a spit, 
that boils and turns without counting the cost. 

303. This is very well for those who do not 
care a straw, whether their pork cost them seven 
cents a pound or half a dollar a pound ; and, 
I like to see even the waste; because it is a 
proof of the easy and happy life of the farmer. 
JBut, when we are talking o^ profitable agricul- 



CHAP. VIII.] COWS, SHEEP, HOGS, &C. 311 

ture, we must examine this swill tub, and see 
what it contains. To keep pigs to a profit, you 
must carry them on to their fatting time at little 
expence. Milk comes from all the grass you 
grow and almost the whole of the dry fodder. 
Five or six cows will sweep a pretty good farm 
as clean as the turnpike road. Pigs, till well 
weaned must be kept upon good food. My pigs 
will always be fit to go out of the weaning stye 
at three months old. The common pigs require 
four months. Then out they go never to be fed 
again, except on grass, greens, or roots, till 
they arrive at the age to be fattened. If they 
will not keep themselves in growing order upon 
this food, it is better to shoot them at once. 
But, I never yet saw a hog that would not. The 
difference between the good sort and the bad 
sort, is, that the former will always be fat 
enough for fresh pork, and the latter will not ; 
and that, in the fatting, the former will not re- 
quire (weight for weight of animal) more than 
half the: food that the latter will to make them 
equally fat. 

304. Out of the milk and meal system another 
monstrous evil arises. It is seldom that the 
hogs come to a proper age before they are 
killed. A hog has not got his growth till he is 
full two years old. But, who will, or can, have 
the patience to see a hog eating Long-Island 



312 cows, SHEEP, HOGS, &C. [PART II. 

swill for two years? When a hog is only 15 or 
16 months old, he will lay on two pounds of 
fat for every one pound that will, out of the 
same quantity of food, be laid on by an eight 
or ten months' pig. Is it not thus with every ani- 
mal ? A stout boy will be like a herring upon 
the very food that would make his father fat, or 
kill him. However, this fact is too notorious 
to be insisted on. 

305. Then, the young meat is not so nutri- 
tious as the old. Steer-beef is not nearly so good 
as ox-beef. Young wether mutton bears the 
same proportion of inferiority to old wether 
mutton. And, what reason is there, that the 
principle should not hold good as to hog-meat ? 
In Westphalia, where the fme hams are made, 
the hogs are never killed under three years old. 
In France, where I saw the fattest pork I ever 
saw, they keep their fatting hogs to the same 
age. In France and Germany, the people do 
not eat the hog, as hog : they use the hog to 
put fat into other sorts of meat. They make 
holes in beef, mutton, veal, turkeys and fowls, 
an<I, with a tin tube, draw in bits of fat hog, 
which they call lard, and, as it is all fat, hence 
comes it that we call the inside fat of a hog, 
lard. Their beef and mutton and veal would 
be very poor stuff without the aid of the hog; 
but, with that aid, they make them all e;>(ceed- 



CHAP. VIII.] COWS, SHEEP, HOGS, &C. 313 

ingly good. Hence it is, that they are induced 
to keep their hogs till they have quite done 
groiuing; and, though their sort of hogs is the 
very ivorst I ever saw, their hog meat was the 
very fattest. The common weight in Normandy 
and Brittany is from six to eight hutidred 
jjounds. But, the poor fellows there do not 
slaughter away as the farmers do here, ten or a 
dozen hogs at a time, so that the sight makes 
one wonder whence are to come the mouths to 
eat the meat. In France dv, lard is a thing to 
smell to, not to eat. 1 like the eating far better 
than the smelling system; but when we are 
talking about farming for gain, we ought to in- 
quire how any given weight of meat can he ob- 
tained at the cheapest rate. A hog in his third 
year, would, on the American plan, suck half a 
dairy of cows perhaps ; but, then, mind, he 
would, upon a third part of the jatting food, 
weigh down four Long Island " shuts,'^ the 
average weight of which is about one hundred 
and fifty pounds. 

306. A hog, upon rich food, will be much 
bigger at the end of a year, than a hog upon 
good growing diet; but, he will not be biioger at 
the end of two years, and especially at the end 
of three years. His size is not to be forced on, 
any more than- that of a child, beyond a certain 
point. 



314 cows, SHEEP, HOGS, &C. [PART II. 

307. For these reasons, if I were settled as a 
farmer, I would let my hogs have tvne to come to 
their size. Some sorts come to it at an earlier 
period, and this is amongst the good qualities 
of my English hogs; but, to do the thing 
well, even they ought to have two years to 
grow in. 

308. The reader will think, that I shall never 
cease talking about hogs; but, I have now done, 
only 1 will add, that, in keeping hogs in a grow- 
ing state, we must never forget their lodging / 
A few boards, flung carelessly over a couple of 
rails, and no litter beneath, is not the sort of 
bed for a hog. A place of suitable size, large 
rather than small, well sheltered on every side, 
covered with a roof that lets in no wet or snow. 
No opening, except a door-way big enough for 
a hog to go in ; and the floor constantly well 
bedded with leaves of trees, dry, or, which is 
the best thing, and what a hog deserves, plenty 
of clean straw. When I make up my hogs 
lodging place for winter, I look well at it, and 
consider, whether, upon a pinch, I could, for 
once and away, make shift to lodge in it myself. 
U I skiver at the thought, the place is not good 
enough for my hogs. It is not in the nature of 
a hog to sleep in the cold. Look at them. You 
will see them, if they have the means, cover 
themselves over for the night. '^Thxfi is what is 



CHAP. VIII.] COWS, SHEEP, HOGS, &C. 315 

done by neither horse, cow, sheep, dog nor cat. 
And this should admonish us to provide hogs 
with warm and comfortable lodging. Their 
sagacity in providing against cold in the night, 
when they have it in their power to make such 
provision, is quite wonderful. You see them 
looking about for the warmest spot : then they 
go to work, raking up the litter so as to break 
the wind off; and when they have done their 
best, they lie down. I had a sow that had some 
pigs running about with her in April last. There 
was a place open to her on each side of the 
barn. One faced the east and the other the 
west ; and, 1 observed, that she sometimes took 
to one side and sometimes to the other. One 
evening her pigs had gone to bed on the east 
side. She was out eating till it began to grow 
dusk. I saw her go into her pigs, and was 
surprised to see her come out again; and there- 
fore, looked a little to see what she was after. 
There was a high heap of dung in the front of 
the barn to the south. She walked up to the 
top of it, raised her nose, turned it very slowly, 
two or three times, from the north-east to the 
north-west, and back again, and at last, it 
settled at about south-east, for a little bit. She 
then came back, marched away very hastily to 
her pigs, roused them up in a great bustle, and 



310 cows, SHEEP, HOGS, &C. [PART II. 

away slv. trampled with them at her heels to 
the p!:^ce on the west side of the barn. There 
was so little wind, that I conld not tell which 
way it blew, till 1 took up some leaves, and 
tossed them in the air. I then found, that it 
came from the precise point which her nose 
had settled at. And thus was I convinced, 
that she had con»e out to ascertain which way 
the wind came, and, finding it likely to make 
her young- ones cold in the night, she had gone 
and called them up, though it was nearly dark, 
and taken tliem off to a more comfortable 
birth. Was this an instinctive, or was it a 
reasoning proceeding? At any rate, let us^ 
not treat such animals as if they were stocks 
and stones. 

309. Poultry. — I merely mean to observe, 
as to poultry, that they must be kept away 
from turnips and cabbages, especially in the 
early part of the growth of these plants. 
When turnips are an inch or two high a good 
large flock of turkeys will destroy an acre in 
half a day, in four feet rows. Ducks and 
geese will do the same. Fowls will do great 
mischief. If these things cannot be kept out 
of the field, the crop must be abandoned, or 
the poultry killed. It is true, indeed, that it 
is only near the house that poultry plague 



CHAP. VIII.] COWS, SHEEP, HOGS, &C. 317 

you much: but, it is equally true, that the 
best and richest land is precisely that which 
is near the house, and this, on every account, 
whether of produce or application, is the very 
land where you ought to have these crops. 



318 PRICES OP LAND, LABOUR, [PART 11. 



CHAP. IX. 

PRICES OF LAND, LABOUR, FOOD AND RAIMENT, 

3 JO. Lakd is of various prices, of course. 
But, as I am, in tliis Chapter, addressing my- 
self to English Farmers, J am not speaking of 
the price either of land in the wildernesses, or of 
land in the immediate vicinage of great cities. 
The wilderness price is two or three dollars an 
acre : the city price four or five hundred. The 
land at the same distance from New York that 
Chelsea is from London, is of higher price than 
the land at Chelsea. The surprizing growth of 
these cities, and the brilliant prospect before 
them, give value to every thing that is situated 
in or near them. 

311. It is my intention, however, to speak only 
oi farming land. This, too, is, of course, affected 
in its value by the circumstance of distance 
from market; but, the reader will make his 
own calculations as to this matter. A farm, 
then, on this Island, any where not nearer than 
thirty miles of, and not more distant than sixty 
miles from. New York, with a good farm-house, 
bam, stables, sheds, and styes; the land fenced 



CHAP. IX.] FOOD AND RAIMENT. 3l9 

into fields with posts and rails, the wood-land 
being in the proportion of one to ten of the ara- 
ble land, and there behig on the farm a pretty 
good orchard ; such a farm, if the land be in a 
good state, and of an average quality, is worth 
sixty dollars an acre, or thirteen pounds sterling; 
of course, a farm of a hundred acres would cost 
one thousand three hundred pounds. The rich 
lands on the necks and hays, where there are 
meadows and surprizingly productive orchards, 
and where there is water carriage, are worth, 
in some cases, three times this price. But, 
what I have said will be sufficient to enable the 
reader to form a pretty correct judgment on the 
subject. In New Jersey, in Pennsylvania, 
every where the price differs with the circum- 
«tances of water carriage, quality of land, and 
distance from market. 

312. When I say a good farm-house, I mean 
a house a great deal better than the general 
run of farm-houses in England. More neatly 
finished on the inside. More in a parlour sort 
of style ; though round about the house, things 
do not look so neat and tight as in England. 
Even in Pennsylvania, and amongst the Qua- 
kers too, there is a sort of out-of-doors sloven- 
liness, which is never hardly seen in England. 
You see bits of wood, timber, boards, chips, 
lying about, here and there, and pigs and cattle 

2 A 



520 PRICES OF LAND, LABOUR, [PART II. 

trampling about in a sort of confusion, which 
would make an English farmer fret himself to 
death ; but which is here seen with great pla* 
cidness. The out-buildings, except the barns, 
and except in the finest counties of Pennsyl- 
vania, are not so numerous, or so capacious, as 
in England, in proportion to the size of the 
farms. The reason is, that the weather is so 
dry. Cattle need not covering a twr nJi. in part 
so much as in England, except hogs, whr. must 
be warm as well as dry. However, these share 
with the rest, and very little covering they 
get. 

313. Ztabour is the great article of expence 
upon a farm ; yet it is not nearly so great as 
in England, in proportion to the amount of the 
produce of a farm, especially if the poor- 
rates be, in both cases, included. However, 
speaking of the positive wages, a good farm- 
labourer has twenty-jive pounds sterling a year 
and his board and lodging; and a good day- 
labourer has, upon an average, a dollar a day. 
A woman servant, in a farm-house, has from 
forty to fifty dollars a year, or eleven pounds 
sterling. These are the average of the wages 
throughout the country. But, then, mind, the 
farmer has nothing (foi-, really, it is not worth 
mentioning) to pay in poor-rates; which in 
England, must always be added to the wages 



CHAP. IX.] FOOD AND RAIMENT. 321 

that a farmer pays; and, sometimes, they far 
exceed the wages. 

314. It is, too, of importance to know, what 
sort of labourers these Americans are ; for, 
though a labourer is a labourer, still there is 
some difference in them ; and, these Americans 
are the best that I ever saw. They mow four 
acres, oi oats, ivheat, rye, or barley in a day, and, 
with a cradle, lay it so smooth in the swarths, 
that it is tied up in sheaves with the greatest 
neatness and ease. They mow tivo acres and 
a half of grass in a day, and they do the 
work well. And the crops, upon an average, 
are all, except the wheat, as heavy as in England. 
The English farmer will want nothing more 
than these facts to convince him, that the la- 
bour, after all, is not so veiy dear. 

3 1 5. The causes of these performances, so far 
beyond those in England, is first, the men are 
tall and well built ; they are hony rather than 

fleshy ; and they live, as to food, as well as man 
can live. And, secondly, they have been edu- 
cated to do much in a day. The farmer here 
generally is at the head of his " boys^' as they, 
in the kind language of the country, are called. 
Here is the best of examples. My old and be- 
loved friend, Mr. James Paul, used, at the 
age of nearly sixty to go at the head of his 
mowers, though his fine farm was his own, and 

2a 2 



32-2 PRICES OF LAND, LABOUR, [pART IT. 

though he might, in other respects, be called a 
rich man ; and, I have heard, that Mr. Elias 
Hicks, the famous Quaker Preacher, who lives 
about nine miles from this spot, has this year, 
at seventy years of age, cradled down four acres 
of rye in a day. I wish some of the preachers 
of other descriptions, especially our fat parsons 
in England, would think a little of this, and 
would betake themselves to *' work with their 
" hands the things which be good, that they 
*' may have to give to him who needeth," and 
not go on any longer gormandizing and swilling 
upon the labour of those who need. 

316. Besides the great quantity of work per- 
formed by the American labourer, his skilly the 
versatility of his talent, is a great thing. Every 
man can use an «.r, a saiv, and a hammer. 
Scarcely one who cannot do any job at rough 
carpentering, and mend a plough or a waggon. 
Very few indeed, who cannot kill and dress 
pigs and sheep, and many of them Oxen and 
Calves. Every farmer is a neat butcher ; a 
butcher for 7narJtet ; and, of course, " the boys'* 
must learn. This is a great convenience. It 
makes you so independent as to a main part of 
the means of housekeeping. AW are ploughmen. 
In short, a good labourer here, can do any thing' 
that is to be done u])on a farm. 

3 J 7. The operations necessary in miniature 



CHAP. IX.] POOD AND RAIMENT. 323 

cultivation they are very awkward at. The 
gardens are ^ploughed in general. An American 
labourer uses a spade in a very awkward man- 
ner. They poke the earth about as if they had 
no eyes ; and toil and muck themselves half to 
death to dig as much ground in a day as a 
Surrey man would dig in about an hour of hard 
work. JBanking^ hedging, they know nothing 
about. They have no idea of the use of a hill' 
hook, which is so adroitly used in the coppices 
of Hampshire and Sussex. An ax is their tool, 
and with that tool, at cutting down trees oi" 
cutting them up, they will do ten times as much 
in a day as any other men that I ever saw. Set 
one of these men on upon a wood of timber trees, 
and his slaughter will astonish you. A neigh- 
bour of mine tells a story of an Irishman, who 
promised he could do any thing, and whom, there- 
fore, to begin with, the employer sent into the 
wood to cut down a load of wood to burn. He 
gtaid a long while away with the team, and the 
farmer went to him fearing some accident had 
happened. " What are you about all this time ?" 
said the farmer. The man was hacking away 
at a hickory tree, but had not got it half down ; 
and that was all he had done. An American, 
black or white, would have had half a dozen 
trees cut down, cut up into lengths, put upon* 
the carriage, and brought home, in the time. 



324 PRICES OF LAND, LABOUR, [PART II. 

318. So that our men, who come from Eng- 
land, must not expect, that, in these common 
labours of the country, they are to surpass, or 
even equal, these " Yankees,"" who, of all men 
that I ever saw, are the most active and the 
mos^ hardy. They skip over a fence like a 
greyhound. They will catch you a pig in an 
open field by racing him down ; and they are 
afraid of nothing. This was the sort of stuff 
that filled the frigates of Decatur, Hull, and 
B^AiNBRiDGE. No wondcr that they triumphed 
when opposed to poor pressed creatures, worn 
out by length of service and ill-usage, and en- 
couraged by no hope of fair-play. My Lord 
Cochrane said, in his place in parliament, that 
it would be so ; and so it was. Poor Cashman, 
that brave Irishman, with his dying breath, ac- 
cused the government and the merchants of 
England of withholding from him his pittance ©f 
prize money ! Ought not such a vile, robbing, 
murderous system to be destroyed ? 

319. Of the same active, hardy, and brave 
stuff, too, was composed the army of Jackson, 
who drove the invaders into the Gulph of 
Mexico, and who would have driven into the 
same Gulph the army of Waterloo, and the 
heroic gentleman, too, who lent his hand to the 
murder of Marshal Ney. This is the stuff that 
stands between the rascals, called the Holy 



CHAP. IX.] FOOD AND RAIMENt. 325 

Alliance, and the slavery of the whole civilized 
world. This is the stuff that gives us English- 
men an asylum ; that gives us time to breathe; 
that enables us to deal our tyrants blows, 
which, without the existence of this stuff, they 
never would receive. This America, this scene 
of happiness under a free government, is the 
beam in the eye, the thorn in the side, the worm 
in the vitals, of every despot upon the face of 
the earth. 

320. An American labourer is not regulated, 
as to time, by clocks and ivatches. The sun, 
who seldom hides his face, tells him when to 
begin in the morning and when to leave off at 
night. He has a dollar, a whole dollar for his 
work ; but then it is the work of a ivhole day* 
Here is no dispute about hours. " Hours were 
" made for slaves/' is an old saying; and, really, 
they seem here to act upon it as a practical 
maxim. This is a great thing in agricultural 
affairs. It prevents so many disputes. It re- 
moves so great a cause of disagreement. The 
American labourers, like the tavern-keepers, 
are never servile, but always civil. Neither 
boohishness nor meanness mark their character. 
They never creep 2iud fawn, and are never rude. / 
Employed about your house as day-labourers, 
they never come to interlope for victuals or 
drink. They have Jio idea of such a thing: 



326 PRICES OF LAND, LABOUR, [PART II. 

Their pride would restrain them if their plenty 
did not; and, thus would it be with all la- 
bourers, in all countries, were they left to enjoy 
the fair produce of their labour. Full pocket 
or empty pocket, these American labourers are 
always the scmie ynen : no saucy cunning in the 
one case, and no base crawling in the other. 
This, too, arises from the free institutions of 
government. A man has a voice because he is a 
man, and not because he is the possessor of 
money. And, shall I 7iever see our English 
labourers in this happy state? 

32 1 . Let those English farmers, who love to sec 
a poor wretched labourer stand trembling before 
them with his hat off, and who think no more 
of him than of a dog, remain where they are ; 
or, go off, on the cavalry horses, to the devil at 
once, if they wish to avoid the tax-gatherer; 
for, they would, here, meet with so many mor- 
tifications, that they would, to a certainty, hang 
themselves in a month. 

322. There are some, and even many, farmers, 
■who do not work themselves in the fields. But, 
they all attend to the thing, and are all equally 
civil to their working people. They manage 
their, affairs very judiciously. Little talking. 
Orders plainly given in few words, and in a 
decided tone. This is their only secret. 

323. The cattle and implements used in hus- 



CHAP. IX.] FOOD AND RAIMENT. 327 

ban dry are cheaper than in England ; that is to 
say, lower priced. The wear and tear not nearly 
half so much as upon a farm in England of the 
same size. The climate, the soil, the gentleness 
and docility of the horses and oxen, the light- 
ness of the waggons and carts, the lightness and 
toughness of the 2f;oo^ of which husbandry imple- 
ments are made, the simplicity of the harness, 
and, above all, the ingenuity and handiness of 
the workmen in repairing, and in making shift ; 
all these make the implements a matter of very 
little note. Where horses are kept, the shoing 
of them is the most serious kind of expence. 

324. The first business of a farmer is, here, 
and ought to be every where, to live well: to 
live in ease and plenty ; to " keep hospitality ^^ 
as the old English saying was. To save money 
is a secondary consideration ; but, any English 
farmer, who is a good farmer there, may, if he 
will bring his industry and care with him, and 
be sure to leave his pride and insolence (if he 
have any) along with his anxiety, behind him, 
live in ease and plenty here, and keep hospi- 
tality, and save a great parcel of money too. 
Jf he have the Jack-Daw taste for heaping lit- 
tle round things together in a hole, or chest, 
he may follow his taste. I have often thought 
of my good neighbour, John Gater, who, if 
he were here, with his pretty clipped hedges, 



328 PRICES OP LAND, LABOUR, &C. [PART Hi 

his garden-looking fields, and his neat home- 
steads, would have visitors from far and near ; 
and, while every one would admire and praise, 
no soul would envy him his possessions. Mr. 
Gater would soon have all these things. The 
hedges only want planting ; and he would feel 
so comfortably to know that the Botley Parson 
could never again poke his nose into his sheep- 
fold or his pig-stye. However, let me hope, 
rather, that the destruction of the Borough- 
tyranny, will soon make England a country, 
fit for an honest and industrious man to live in* 
Let me hope, that a relief from grinding taxa- 
tion will soon relieve men of their fears of dying 
in poverty, and will, thereby, restore to Eng- 
land the " hospitality,'' for which she was once 
famed, but which now really exists no where 
but in America. 



CHAP. X.] EXPENCES OF HOUSE-KEEPING. 329 



CHAP. X. 

EXPENCES OF HOUSE-KEEPING. 

3*25. It must be obvious, that these must be 
in proportion to the number in family, and to 
the style of living. Therefore, every one know- 
ing how he stands in these two respects, the 
best thing for me to do is to give an account of 
the prices of house-rent, food, raiment, and 
servants ; or, as they are called here, helpers. 

326. In the great cities and towns house-rent 
is very high-priced ; but, then, nobody but 
mad people live there except they have business 
there, and, then, they are paid back their rent 
in the profits of that business. This is so plain 
a matter, that no argument is necessary. It is 
unnecessary to speak about the expences of a 
farm-house ; because, the farmer eats, and very 
frequently wears, his own produce. If these be 
high-priced, so is that part which he sells. Thus 
both ends meet with him. 

327. I am, therefore, supposing the case of a 
man, who follows no business, and who lives upon 
what he has got. In England he cannot eat 
and drink and wear the interest of his money ; 



330 EXPENCES OF HOUSE-KEEPING. [PART II. 

for the Boroughniongers have pawned half his 
income, and they will have it, or his blood. 
He wishes to escape from this alternative. He 
wishes to keep his blood, and enjoy his money 
too. He would come to America; but he does 
not know, whether prices here will not make 
up for the robbery of the Borough-villains ; 
and he wishes to know, too, lohat sort of so- 
ciety he is going into. Of the latter I will 
speak in the next chapter. 

328. The price of house-rent and fuel is, 
when at more than three miles from New York, 
as low as it is at the same distance from any 
great city or town in England. The price of 
wheaten bread is a third lower than it is in any 
part of England. The price of heef mutton, 
lamb, veal, small pork, hog-meat, poultry, is one 
half the London price ; the first as good, the 
two next very nearly as good, and all the rest 
far, very far, better than in London. The sheep 
and lambs that T now kill for my house are as 
fat as any that I ever saw in all my life ; and 
they have been running in ivild ground, wholly 
uncultivated for many years, all the summer. 
A lamb, killed the week before last, weighing 
in the whole, thirty-eight pounds, had five 
pounds of loose fai and three pounds and ten 
ounces of suet. We cut a pound of solid fat 
from each breaat; aud, after that it was too 



CHAP. X.] EXPENCES OF HOUSE-KEEPING 331 

fat to be pleasant to eat. My flock being small, 
forty, or thereabouts, of some neighbours join- 
ed them; and they have all got fat together. 
I have missed the interlopers lately : I suppose 
the *' Yorkers" have eaten them up by this 
time. What they have fattened on except 
brambles and cedars^ 1 am sure I do not know. 
If any Englishman should be afraid that he 
will find no roast-beef here, it may be sufficient 
to tell him, that an ox was killed, last winter, 
at Philadelphia, the quarters of which weighed 
tivo thousand, two hundred, and some odd pounds, 
and he was sold TO THE BUTCHER for one 
thousand three hundred dollars. This is proof 
enough of the spirit of enterprize, and of the 
disposition in the public to encourage it. I 
believe this to have been the fattest ox that 
ever was killed in the world. Three times 
as much money, or, perhaps, ten times as much, 
might have been made, if the ox had been shown 
for money. But, this the owner would not per- 
mit; and he sold the ox in that condition. I 
need hardly say that the owner was a Quaker. 
New Jersey had the honour of producing this 
ox, and the owner's name was JOB TYLER. 
329. That there must be good bread in Ame- 
rica is pretty evident from the well known fact, 
that hundreds of thousands of barrels of flour 
are, most years sent to England, finer than any 



332 EXPENCES OF HOUSE-KEEPING. [PART II, 

that England can produce. And, having now 
provided the two principal articles, I will sup- 
pose, as a matter of course, that a gentleman 
will have a garden, an orchard, and a cow or 
two ; but, if he should be able (no easy matter) 
to find a genteel country-house without these 
conveniences, he may buy butter, cheaper, and, 
upon an average, better than in England. The 
garden stuff, if he send to New York for it, he 
must buy pretty dear; and, faith, he ought to 
buy it dear, if he will not have some planted 
and preserved. 

330. Cheese, of the North River produce, I 
have bought as good of Mr. Stickler of New 
York as I ever tasted in all my life ; and, in- 
deed, no better cheese need be wished for than 
what is now made in this country. The ave- 
rage price is about seven -pence a pound (English 
money), which is much lower than even mid- 
dling cheese is in England. Perhaps, generally 
speaking, the cheese here is not so good as the 
better kinds in England; but, there is none 
here so poor as the poorest in England. Indeed 
the people ivould not eat it, which is the best 
security against its being made. Mind, I state 
distinctly, that as good cheese as I ever tasted, 
if not the best, was of American produce. I 
know the article well. Bread and cheese din- 
ners have been the dinners of a good fourth of 



CHAP. X.] EXPENCES OF HOUSE-KEEPING. 333 

my life. I know the Cheshire, Gloucester, 
Wiltshire, Stilton, and the Parmasan; and I 
never tasted better than American cheese, 
bought of Mr. Stickler, in Broad Street, New 
York. And this cheese Mr. Stickler informs 
me is nothing uncommon in the county of Che- 
shire in Massachusetts; he knows at least a 
hundred persons himself that make it equally 
good. And, indeed, why should it not be thus 
in a country where the pasture is so rich; 
where the sun warms every thing into sweet- 
ness ; where the cattle eat the grass close under 
the shade of the thickest trees ; which we know 
well they will not do in England. Take any 
fruit which has grown in the shade in England, 
and you will find that it has not half the sweet- 
ness in it, that there is in fruit of the same bulk, 
grown in the sun. But, here the sun sends his 
heat down through all the boughs and leaves. 
The jnanufacturing of cheese is not yet gene- 
rally/ brought, in this country, to the English 
perfection ; but, here are all the materials, and 
the rest will soon follow. 

331. Groceries, as they are called, are, upon 
an average, at far less than half the English 
price. Tea, sugar, coffee, spices, chocolate, 
cocoa, salt, sweet oil ; all free of the Borough- 
mongers' taxes and their paiV7i, are so cheap as 
to be within the reach of every one. Chocolate, 



334 EXPENCES OF HOUSE-KEEPING. [PART IL 

which is a treat to the rich^ in England, is here 
used even by the negroes. Sweet oil, raisins, 
currants ; all the things from the Levant, are 
at 3. fourth ox fifth of the English price. The 
English people, who pay enormously to keep 
possession of the East and West Indies, pur- 
chase the produce even of the English posses- 
sions at a price double of that which the Ame- 
ricans giveybr that very produce! What a hel- 
lish oppression must that people live under! 
Candles and soap (quality for quality) are half 
the English price. Wax candles (beautiful) are 
at a third of the English price. It is no very 
great piece of extravagance to burn wax can- 
dles constantly here, and it is frequently done 
by genteel people, who do not make their own 
candles. 

332. Fish I have not mentioned, because 
fish is not every where to be had in abundance. 
But, any where near the coast it is ; and, it is 
so cheap, that one wonders how it can be 
brought to market for the money. Fine Black- 
Kock, as good, at least, as codfish, I have seen 
sold, and in cold weather too, at an English 
farthing a pound. They now bring us fine fish 
round the country to our doors, at an English 
three pence a pound. I believe they count 
fifty or sixty sorts of fish in New York market, 
as the average. Oysters, other shell-fish, called 



CHAP. X.] EXPENCES OF HOUSE-KEEPING. 335 

clams. In short, the variety and abundance 
are such that [ cannot describe them. 

333. An idea of the state of -plenty may be 
formed from these facts : nobody but the free 
negroes who have famiUes ever think of eating a 
sheep s head and pluck. It is seldom that oxens 
heads are used at home, or sold, and never in 
the country. In the course of the year hun- 
dreds of calves' heads, large bits smd whole joints 
of meat, are left on the shambles, at New York, 
for any body to take aivay that will. They 
generally fall to the share of the street hogs, a 
thousand or two of which are QonstdiWiXY fatting 
in New York on the meat and fish flung out of 
the houses. 1 shall be told, that it is only in 
hot weather, that the shambles are left thus gar- 
nished. Very true; but, are the shambles of 
any other country thus garnished in hot iveather? 
Oh ! no ! If it were not for the superabundance, 
all the food would be sold at some price or 
other. 

334. After bread, flesh, fish, fowl, butter, 
cheese and groceries, comes fruit. Apples, 
pears, cherries, peaches at a tenth part of the 
English price. The other day I met a man 
going to market with a waggon load of winter 
pears. He had high boards on the sides of the 
waggon, and his waggon held about 40 oi; 5o 
bushels. I have bought very good apples this 

2 B 



336 EXPENCES OF HOUSE-KEEPING. [PART II. 

year (oy four pence halfpenny (English) a bushel, 
to boil for little pigs. Besides these, strawber- 
ries grow wild in abundance; but no one will 
take the trouble to get them. Huckle-berries 
in the woods in great abundance, chesnuts all 
over the country. Four pence half-penny (Eng- 
lish) a quart for these latter. Cranberries, the 
finest fruit for tarts that ever grew, are bought 
for about a dollar a bushel, and they will keep, 
flung down in the corner of a room, for five 
months in the year. Asa sauce to venison or 
mutton, they are as good as currant jelly. Pine 
apples in abundance, for several months in the 
year, at an average of an English shilling each. 
Melons at an average of an English eight pence. 
In short, what is there not in the way of fruit? 
All excellent of their kinds and all for a mere 
trifle, compared to what they cost in England. 

335. 1 am afraid to speak of drink, lest 1 
should be supposed to countenance the common 
use of it. But, protesting most decidedly against 
this conclusion, 1 proceed to inform those, who 
are not content with the cow for vintner and 
brewer, that all the materials for making people 
drunk, or muddle beaded, are much cheaper 
here than in England. Beer, good ale, I mean, 
a great deal better than the common public- 
house beer in England ; in short, good, strong, 
clear ale, is, at New York, eight dollars a bar- 



CHAP. X.] EXPENCES OF HOUSE-KEEPING. 337 

rel ; that is, about fourteen English pence a 
gallon. Brew yourself, in the country, and it 
is about seven English pence a gallon ; that is to 
say, less than tiuo pence a quart. No Borough- 
mongers' tax on malt, hops, or beer ! Portugal 
wine is about half the price that it is in Eng- 
land. French wine a sixth part of the English 
price. Brandy and Rum about the same in 
proportion ; and the common spirits of the 
country are about three shillings and sixpence 
(English) a gallon. Come on, then, if you love 
toping; for here you may drink yourselves 
blind at the price of sixpence. 

336. Wearing apparel comes chiefly from 
England, and all the materials of dress are as 
cheap as they are there ; for, though there is a 
duty laid on the importation, the absence of 
taxes, and the cheap food and drink, enable the 
retailer to sell as low here as there. Shoes are 
cheaper than in England ; for, though shoe- 
makers are well paid for their labour, there is 
no Borough-villain to tax the leather. All the 
India and French goods are at half the English 
price. Here no ruffian can seize you by the 
throat and tear off your suspected handkerchief. 
Here Signor Waithman, or any body in that 
line, might have sold French gloves and shawls 
without being tempted to quit the field of poli- 
tics as a compromise with the government ; and 

2 b2 



338 EXPENCES OF HOUSE-KEEPlNG. [PART II. 

without any breach of covenants, after being 
suffered to escape with only a gentle squeeze. 

337. Household Furniture, all cheaper than 
in England. Mahogany timber a third part of 
the English price. The distance shorter to 
bring it, and the tax next to nothing on impor- 
tation. The ivoods here, the pine, the ash, the 
white-oak, the walnut, the tulip-tree, and many 
others, all excellent. The workman paid high 
wages, but no tax. No Borough-villains to 
share in the amount of the price. 

338. Horses, carriages, harness, all as good, 
^s gay, and cheaper than in England. I hardly 
ever saw a rip in this country. The hackney 
coach horses and the coaches themselves, at 
New York, bear no resemblance to things of the 
same name in London. The former are all good, 
sound, clean, and handsome. What the latter 
are I need describe in no other way than to say, 
that tlie coaches seem fit for nothing but the 
fire and the horses for the dogs. 

339. Domestic servants ! This is a weighty 
article : not in the cost, however, so much as in 
the plague. A good man servant is worth 
thirty pounds sterling a year ; and 3, good ivoman 
servant, twenty pounds sterling a year. But, 
this is not all ; for, in the first place, they will 
hire only by the month. This is what they, in 
fact, do in England ; for, there they can quit 



CHAP. X.] EXPENCES OF HOUSE-KEEPING. 339 

at a month's ivaining. The man will not wear 
a liver?/, any more than he will wear a halter 
round his neck. This is no great matter; for, 
as your neighbours' men are of the same taste, 
you expose yourself to no humiliation on this 
score. Neither men nor women will allow you 
to call them servants, and they will take especial 
care not to call themselves by that name. This 
seems something very capricious, at the least ; 
and, as people in such situations of life, really 
are servants, according to even the sense which 
Moses gives to the word, when he forbids the 
working of the man servant and the maid ser- 
vant, the objection, the rooted aversion, to the 
name, seems to bespeak a xmxinveoi false pride 
and of iiisolence, neither of which belong to the 
American character, even in the lowest walks 
of life. 1 will, therefore, explain the cause of 
this dislike to the name of servant. When this 
country was first settled, there were no people 
that laboured for other people; but, as man is 
always trying to throw the working part off his 
own shoulders, as we see by the conduct of 
priests in all ages, negroes were soon introduced. 
Englishmen, who had ^edfrom tyranny at home, 
were naturally shy of calling other men their 
slaves; and, therefore, ^* for more grace,'' as 
Master Matthew says in the play, they called 
their slaves servants. But, though I doubt not 



340 EXPENCES OF HOUSE-KEEPING. [PART II. 

that this device was quite efficient in quieting 
their own consciences, it gave rise to the notion, 
that slave and servant meant one and the same 
thing, a conclusion perfectly natural and di- 
rectly deducible from the premises. Hence 
every free man and woman have rejected with 
just disdain the appellation of servant. One 
would think, however, that they might be re- 
conciled to it by the conduct of some of their 
superiors in life, who, without the smallest ap- 
parent reluctance, call themselves " Public 
Servants,'' in imitation, 1 suppose, of English 
Ministers, and his Holiness, the Pope, who, in 
the excess of his humility, calls himself, " the 
" Servant of the Servants of the Lord'' But, 
perhaps, the American Domestics have observ- 
ed, that " Public Servant" really me2ins master. 
Be the cause what it may, however, they con- 
tinue most obstinately to scout the name of 
servant; and, though they still keep a civil 
tongue in their head, there is not one of them 
that will not resent the affront with more bit- 
terness than any other that you can oflTer. The 
man, therefore, who would deliberately offer such 
an affront must be a fool. But, there is an incon- 
venience far greater than this. People in gene- 
ral are so comfortably situated, that very few, 
and then only of those who are pushed hard, will 
become domestics to any body. So that, gene- 



CHAP. X.] EXPENCES OF HOUSE-KEEPING. 341 

rally speaking, Domestics of both sexes are far 
from good. They are honest; but they are not 
obedient. They are careless. Wanting fre- 
quently in the greater part of those qualities, 
which make their services conducive to the 
neatness of houses and comfort of families. 
What a difference would it make in this coun- 
try, if it could be supplied with nice, clean, 
dutiful English maid servants ! As to the mew, it 
does not much signify ; but, for the want of the 
maids, nothing but the absence of grinding taxa- 
tion can compensate. As to bringing them with 
you^ it is as wild a project as it would be to 
try to carry the sunbeams to England. They 
will begin to change before the ship gets on 
soundings ; and, before they have been here a 
month, you must turn them out of doors, or 
they will you. If, by any chance, joujind them 
here, it may do ; but bring them out and keep 
them you cannot. The best way is to put on 
your philosophy; never to look at this evil 
without, at the same time, looking at the many 
good things that you find here. Make the best 
selection you can. Give good wages, not too 
much work, and resolve, at all events, to treat 
them with civility. 

340. However, what is this plague, compared 
with that of the tax gatherer ? What is this 
plague compared with the constant sight of 



342 EXPENCES OF HOUSE-KEEPING. [PART II. 

beggars and paupers, and the constant dread of 
becoming a pauper or beggar yourself? If 
your commands are not obeyed with such 
alacrity as in England, you have, at any rate, 
nobody to command you. You are not ordered 
to " stand and deliver' twenty or thirty times in 
the year by the insolent agent of Boroughmon- 
gers. No one comes to forbid you to open or 
shut up a window. No insolent set of Com- 
missioners send their order for you to dance 
attendance on them, to shetv cause why they 
should not double-tax you; and, when you have 
shown cause, even on your oath, make you pay 
the tax, laugh in your face, and leave you an 
appeal from themselves to another set, deriving 
their authority from the same source, and hav- 
ing a similar interest in oppressing you, and 
thus laying your property prostrate beneath the 
hoof of an insolent and remorseless tyranny. 
Free, wholly free, from this tantalizing, this 
grinding, this odious curse, what need you 
care about the petty plagues of Domestic Ser- 
vants? 

341. However, as there are some men and 
some women, who can never be at heart's ease, 
unless they have the power of domineering over 
somebody or other, and who will rather be 
slaves themselves than not have it in their power 
to treat others as slaves, it becomes a. man of 



CHAP. X.] EXPENCES OF HOUSE-KEEPING. 343 

fortune, proposing to emigrate to America, to 
consider soberly, whether he, or his wife, be of 
this taste; and, if the result of his considera-' 
tion be in the affirmative, his best way will be 
to continue to live under the Boroughmongers, 
or, which I would rather recommend, hang 
himself at once. 



344 MANNERS, CUSTOMS, AND [PART IL 



CHAP. XL 

MANNERS, CUSTOMS, AND CHARACTER OF THE 
PEOPLE. 

342. All these are, generally speaking, the 
same as those of the people of England. The 
French call this people Les Ans^lo - Ameri- 
cains ; and, indeed, what are they else? Of the 
manners and customs somewhat peculiar to 
America I have said so much, here and there, in 
former Chapters, that I can hardly say any thing 
new here upon these matters. But, as society 
is naturally a great thing with a gentleman, who 
thinks of coming hither with his wife and child- 
ren, I will endeavour to describe the society 
that he will find here. To ^\\e general descrip- 
tions is not so satisfactory as it is to deal a little 
in particular instances ; to tell of what one has 
seen and experienced. This is what I shall do; 
and, in this Chapter I wish to be regarded as 
addressing myself to a most worthy and pub- 
lic-spirited gentleman of moderate fortune, in 
Lancashire, who, with a large family, now ba- 
lances whether he shall come, or stay. 



CHAP. XI.] CHARACTER OF THE PEOPLE. 345 

343. Now, then, my dear Sir, this people 
contains very few persons very much raised in 
men's estimation, above the general mass ; for, 
though there are some men of immensejbrtunes, 
their wealth does very little indeed in the way 
of purchasing even the outward signs of respect ; 
and, as to adulation, it is not to be purchased 
with love or money. Men, be they what they 
may, are generally called by their two names^ 
without any thing prefixed or added. I am one 
of the greatest men in this country at present; 
for people in general call me " Cohbett,"' though 
the Quakers provokingly persevere in putting 
the William before it, and my old friends in 
Pennsylvania, use even the word 3illy, which, 
in the very sound of the letters, is an antidote 
to every thing like thirst for distinction. 

344. Fielding, in one of his romances, ob- 
serves, that there are but few cases, in which a 
husband can be justified in availing himself of 
the right which the law gives him to bestow 
manual chastisement upon his wife, and that 
one of these, he thinks, is, when any preten- 
sions to superiority of blood make their ap- 
pearance in her language and conduct. They 
have a better cure for this malady here ; namely ; 
silent, but, ineffable contempt. 

345. It is supposed, in England, that this 
equality of estimation must beget a general 



346 MANNERS, CUSTOMS, AND [pART II. 

coarseness and rudeness of behaviour. Never 
was there a greater mistake. No man likes to 
be treated with disrespect; and, when he finds 
that he can obtain respect only by treating 
others with respect, he will use that only means. 
When he finds that neither haughtiness nor 
wealth will bring him a civil word, he becomes 
civil himself; and, I repeat it again and again, 
this is a country oi universal civility. 

346. The causes of hypocrisy are the fear of 
loss and the hope of gain. Men crawl to those, 
whom, in their hearts, they despise, because 
they fear the effects of their ill-will and hope to 
gain by their good-will. The circumstances of 
all ranks are so easy here, that there is no cause 
for hypocrisy ; and the thing is not of so fasci- 
nating a nature, that men should love it for its 
own sake. 

347. The boasting of wealth, and the endea- 
vouring to disguise poverty, these two acts, so 
painful to contemplate, are almost total strangers 
in this country ; for, no man can gain adulation 
or respect by his wealth, and no man dreads 
the effects of poverty, because no man sees any 
dreadful effects arising from poverty. 

348. That anxious eagerness to get on, which 
is seldom unaccompanied with some degree of 
envy of more successful neighbours, and which 
has its foundation first in a dread of future wanty 



CHAP. XI.] CHARACTER OF THE PEOPLE. 347 

and next in a desire to obtain distinction hy 
means of wealth; this anxious eagerness, so un- 
amiable in itself, and so unpleasant an inmate 
of the breast, so great a sourer of the temper, 
is a stranger to America, where accidents and 
losses, which would drive an Englishman half 
mad, produce but very little agitation. 

349. From the absence of so many causes of 
uneasiness, of envy, of jealousy, of rivalship, 
and of mutual dislike, society, that is to say, 
the intercourse between man and man, and 
family and family, becomes easy and pleasant ; 
while the universal plenty is the cause of univer- 
sal hospitality. I know, and have ever known, but 
little of the people in the cities and towns in 
America ; but, the difference between them and 
the people in the country can only be such as 
is found in all other countries. As to the man- 
ner of living in the country, I was, the other 
day, at a gentleman's house, and I asked the 
lady for her hill of fare for the year. I saw 
fourteen fat hogs, weighing about twenty score a 
piece, which were to come into the house the 
next Monday ; for here they slaughter them all 
in one day. This led me to ask, " Why, in 
" God's name, what do you eat in a year?" 
The Bill of fare was this, for this present year : 
about this same quantity of hog-meat; four 
beeves ; and forty-six fat sheep ! Besides the 



348 MANNERS, CUSTOMS, AND [PART II. 

Slicking pigs (of which we had then one on the 
table), besides lamhs, and besides the produce of 
seventy hen fowls, not to mention good parcels 
oi geese, ducks and turkeys, but, not to forget a 
garden of three quarters of an acre and the but- 
ter of ten cows, not one ounce of which is ever 
sold/ What do you think of that? Why, you 
will say, this must be some great overgrown 
fanner, that has swallowed up half the country ; 
or some nabob sort of merchant. Not at all. 
He has only one hundred and fifty four acres of 
land, (all he consumes is of the produce of this 
land), and he lives in the same house that his 
English-born grandfather lived in. 

330. When the hogs are killed, the house is 
full of work. The sides are salted down as 
pork. The hams are smoked. The lean meats 
are made into sausages, of which, in this 
family, they make about two hundred iveight. 
These latter, with broiled fish, eggs, dried 
beef, dried mutton, slices of ham, tongue, 
bread, butter, cheese, short cakes, buckwheat 
cakes, sweet meats of various sorts, and many 
other things, make up the breakfast fare of 
the year, and, a dish of beef steakes is frequently 
added. 

351. When one sees this sort of living, with 
the houses full of good beds, ready for the 
guests as well as the family to sleep in, w^e can- 



CHAP. XI.] CHARACTER OF THE PEOPLE. 349 

not help perceiving, that this is that " English 
" Hospitality,'" of which we have read so much ; 
but, which Boroughmongers' taxes and pawns 
have long since driven out of England. This 
American way of life puts one in mind of 
Fortescue's fine description of the happy 
state of the English, produced by their good 
laws, which kept every man's property sacred, 
even from the grasp of the king. ** Every in- 
" habitant is at his Liberty fully to use and en- 
" joy whatever his Farm produceth, the Fruits 
" of the Earth, the Increase of his Flock, and 
*' the like: All the Improvements he makes, 
" whether by his own proper Industry, or of 
" those he retains in his Service, are his own to 
" use and enjoy without the Lett, Interruption, 
*' or Denial of any : If he be in any wise in- 
" jured, or oppressed, he shall have his Amends 
" and Satisfaction against the party offending : 
" Hence it is, that the Inhabitants are Rich in 
" Gold, Silver, and in all the JNecessaries and 
*' Conveniences of Life. They drink no Water, 
" unless at certain Times, upon a Religious 
" Score, and by Way of doing Penance. They 
" are fed, in great Abundance, with all sorts of 
" Flesh and Fish, of which they have Plenty 
•* every where; they are cloathed throughout 
" in good Woollens ; their Bedding and other 
" Furniture in their Houses are of Wool, and 



350 MANNERS, CUSTOMS, AND [PART H. 

" that in great Store: They are also well pro- 
" vided with all other Sorts of Household 
" Goods, and necessary Implements for Hus- 
** bandry : Every one, according to his Rank, 
" hath all Things ivhich conduce to make Life 
" easy and happy. They are not sued at Law 
" but before the Ordinary Judges, where they 
" are treated with Mercy and Justice, accord- 
" ing to the Laws of the Land ; neither are 
" they impleaded in Point of Property, or ar- 
''raigned for any Capital Crime, how heinous 
" soever, but before the King's Judges, and ac- 
'* cording to the Laws of the Land. These are 
" the Advantages consequent from that Politi- 
" cal Mixt Government which obtains in JSng- 

'Uand " 

352. This passage, which was first pointed 
out to me by Sir Francis Burdett, describes 
the state of England four hundred years ago ; 
and this, with the polish of modern times added, 
is now the state of the Americans. Their 
forefathers brought the " English Hospitality" 
with them ; for, when they left the country, the 
infernal Soroughmonger Funding system had 
not begun. The Stuarts were religious and 
prerogative tyrants; but they were not, like 
their successors, the Boroughmongers, taxing, 
plundering tyrants. Their quarrels with their 
subjects were about mere words: with the 



CHAP. XI.] CHARACTER OF THE PEOPLE. 351 

Boroughmongers it is a question of purses and 
strong-boxes, of goods and chattels, lands and 
tenements. *' Confiscation' is their word ; and 
you must submit, be hanged, or flee. They 
take away men's property at their pleasure, 
without any appeal to any tribunal. They ap- 
point Commissioners to seize what they choose. 
There is, in fact, 710 law of property left. The 
Bishop-begotten and hell-born system of Fund- 
ing has stripped England of every vestige of 
what was her ancient character. Her hospi- 
tality along with her freedom have crossed the 
Atlantic ; and here they are to shame our ruf- 
fian tyrants, if they were sensible of shame, and 
to give shelter to those who may be disposed to 
deal them distant blows. 

353. It is not with a little bit of dry toast, so 
neatly put in a rack ; a bit of butter so round 
and small ; a little milk pot so pretty and so 
empty ; an e^^ for you, the host and hostess 
not liking eggs. It is not with looks that seem 
to say, " don't eat too much, for the taxgatherer 
" is coming." It is not thus that you are re- 
ceived in America. You are not much askedy 
not much pressed, to eat and drink ; but, such 
an abundance is spread before you, and so 
hearty and so cordial is your reception, that 
you instantly lose all restraint, and are tempted 

2g 



352 MANNERS, CUSTOMS, AND [PART II. 

to feast whether you be hung^iy or not. And, 
though tlie manner and style are widely different 
in different houses, the abundance every where 
prevails. This is the strength of the govern- 
ment: a happy people: and no government 
ought to have any other strength. 

354. But, you may say, perhaps, that plenty, 
however great, is not all that is wanted. Very 
true: for the mind is of more account than the 
carcass. But, here is mind too.- These repasts, 
amongst people of any figure, come forth under 
the superintendance of industrious and accom- 
plished house-wifes, or their daughters, who all 
read a great deal, and in whom that gentle 
treatment from parents and husbands, which 
arises from an absence of racking anxiety, has 
created an habitual, and even an hereditary 
good humour. These ladies can converse with 
you upon almost any subject, and the ease and 
gracefulness of their behaviour are surpassed 
by those of none of even our best-tempered 
English women. They fade at an earlier age 
than ^n England ; but, till then, they are as 
beautiful as the women in Cormcall, which 
contains, to my thinking, the prettiest women 
in our country. However, young or old, bloom- 
ing or fading, well or ill, rich or poor, they still 
preserve their good hmnour. 



CHAP. XI.] CHARACTER OF THE PEOPLE. 353 

*' But, since, alas ! frail beauty must decay, 
" Curl'd, or uncurl'd, since locks will turn to grey; 
" Since painted, or not painted, all shall fade, 
" And she who scorns a man must die a maid ; 
" What, then, remains, but well our pow'r to use, 
" And keep good humour still, vvhate'er we lose ? 
" And, trust me. Dear, good-humour can prevail, 
f " When flights and fits, and screams and scolding fail/* 

355. This beautiful passage, from the most 
beautiful of poets, which ought to be fastened 
in large print upon every lady's dressing table, 
the American women, of all ranks, seem to 
have by heart. Even amongst the very lowest 
of the people, you seldom hear of that torment, 
which the old proverb makes the twin of a 
smoky house. 

356. There are very few really ignorant men 
in America of native growth. Every farmer is 
more or less of a reader. There is no brogue^ 
no provincial dialect. No class like that which 
the French call peasantry, and which degrading 
appellation the miscreant spawn of the Funds 
have, of late years, applied to the whole mass 
of the most useful of the people in England, those 
who do the work and fight the battles. And, 
as to the men, who would naturally form your 
acquaintances, they, I know from experience, 
are as kind, frank, and sensible men as are, on 
the general run, to be found in England, even 
with the power of selection. They are all well- 

2 (J 2 



354 xMANNEKS, CUSTOMS, AND [PART II. 

informed ; modest without shyness ; always free 
to communicate what they know, and never 
ashamed to acknowledge that they have yet to 
learn. You never hear them boast of their pos- 
sessions, and you never hear them complaining 
of their wants. They have all been readers 
from their youth up ; and there are few subjects 
upon which they cannot converse with you, 
whether of a political or scientific nature. At 
any rate, they always hear with patience. \ do 
not know that I ever heard a native American 
interrupt another man while he was speaking. 
Their sedateness and coolness, the deliberate 
manner in which they say and do every thing, 
and the slowness and reserve with which they 
express their assent; these are very wrongly 
estimated, when they are taken for marks of a 
want of feeling. It must be a tale of woe in- 
deed, that will bring a tear from an American's 
eye; but any trumped up story will send his 
hand to his pocket, as the ambassadors from 
the beggars of France, Italy and Grermany can 
fully testify. 

;357. However, you will not, for a long while, 
know what to do for want of the quick responses 
of the English tongue, and the decided tone of 
the English expression. The loud voice; the 
hard squeeze by the hand ; the instant assent or 
disseiit; i\\e clamorous joy ; the bitter wailing ; 



CHAP. XI.] CHARACTER OF THE PEOPLE. 355 

the ardent friendship ; the deadly enmity; the 
love that makes people kill themselves ; the hatred 
that makes them kill others. All these belong 
to the characters of Englishmen, in whose minds 
and hearts every feeling exists in the extreme. 
To decide the question, which character is, 
upon the whole, best, the American or the Eng- 
lish, we must appeal to some third party. But, 
it is no matter : we cannot change our natures. 
For my part, who can, in nothing, think or act 
by halves, 1 must belie my very nature, if I said 
that I did not like the character of my own 
countrymen best. We all like our own parents 
and children better than other people's parents 
and children ; not because they are better, but 
because they are ours; because they belong to 
us and we to them, and because we must 
resemble each other. There are some Americans 
that 1 like full as well as I do any man in Eng- 
land ; but, if, nation against nation, 1 put the 
question home to my heart, it instantly decides 
in favour of my countrymen. 

358. You must not be offended if you find 
people here take but little interest in the con- 
cerns of England. Why should they? Bolton 

F R cannot hire spies to entrap them. 

As matter of curiosity, they may contem- 
plate such works as those of Fletcher ; but, 
they cannot feel much upon the subject ; and 



356 MANNERS, CUSTOMS, AND [PART II. 

they are not insincere enough to expref^s 
much. 

359. There is one thing in the Americans, 
which, though its proper place was further 
back, I have reserved, or rather kept hack, to 
the last moment. It has presented itself several 
times; but 1 have turned from the thought, as 
men do from thinking of any mortal disease 
that is at work in their frame. It is not cove- 
tousness ; it is not niggardliness; it is not in- 
sincerity ; it is not enviousness ; it is not cow- 
ardice, above all things: it is DRINKING. 
Aye, and that too, amongst but too many men, 
who, one would think, would loath it. You 
ran go into hardly any man's house, without 
being asked to drink wine, or spirits, even in 
the mo7imig. l^hey are quick at meals, are 
little eaters, seem to care little about what they 
eat, and never talk about it. This, which arises 
out of the universal abundance of good and 
even fine eatables, is very amiable. You are 
here disgusted with none of those eaters by re- 
putation that are found, especially amongst the 
Parsons, in England : fellows that unbutton at 
it. Nor do tlie Americans sit and tope much 
after dinner, and talk on till they get into non- 
sense and smut, which last is a sure mark of a 
silly and, pretty generally, even of a base mind. 
But, they tipple; and the infernal spirits they 



CHAP. XI.] CHARACTER OF THE PEOPLE. 357 

tipple too! The scenes that 1 witnessed at 
Harrisburgh I shall never forget. I almost 
wished (God forgive me!) that there were Bo- 
roughmongers here to tax these drinkers: they 
would soon reduce them to a moderate dose. 
Any nation that feels itself uneasy with its ful- 
ness of good things, has only to resort to an 
application of Boroughmongers. These are by 
no means nice feeders or of contracted throat : 
they will suck down any thing from the poor 
man's pot of beer to the rich man's lands and 
tenements. 

^QO. The Americans preserve their gravity 
and quietness and good-humour even in their 
drink ; and so much the worse. It were far 
better for them to be as noisy and quarrelsome 
as the English drunkards ; for then the odious- 
ness of the vice would be more visible, and the 
vice itself might become less frequent. Few 
vices want an apology, and drinking has not only 
its apologies but its praises; for, besides the 
appellation of " gevierous tvine" and the numer- 
ous songs, some in very elegant and witty lan- 
guage, from the pens of debauched men of 
talents, drinking is said to be necessary, in cer- 
tain cases at least, to raise the spirits, and to 
keep out cold. Never was any thing more false. 
Whatever intoxicates must enfeeble in the end. 



358 MANNERS, CUSTOMS, AND [pART II, 

and whatever enfeebles must chill. It is very 
"Well known, in the Northern countries, that, if 
the cold be such as to produce danger oi Jrost- 
hiting, you must take care not to drink strong 
liquors. 

361. To see this beastly vice in young men is 
shocking. At one of the taverns at Harris- 
burgh there were several as fine young men as 
I ever saw. Well-dressed, well educated, po- 
lite, and every thing but sober. What a squalid, 
drooping, sickly set they looked in the morning ! 

362. Even little boys at, or under, twelve 
years of age, go into stores, and tip off their 
drams ! I never struck a child, in anger, in my 
life, that I recollect; but, if I were so unfortu- 
nate as to have a son to do this, he having had 
an example to the contrary in me, I would, if all 
other means of reclaiming him failed, whip him 
like a dog, or, which would be better, make 
him an out-cast from my family. 

363. However, I must not be understood as 
meaning, that this tippling is universal amongst 
gentlemen ; and, God be thanked, the women 
of any figure in life do by no means give into 
the practice; but, abhor it as much as well- 
bred women in England, who, in general, no 
more think of drinking strong liquors, than they 
flo of drinking poison. 



CHAP. XI.] CHARACTER OF THE PEOPLE. 35^ 

364. I shall be told, that men in the harvest 
field must have something to drink. To be 

sure, where perspiration almost instantly carries 
off the drink, the latter does not remain so long 
to burn the liver, or vs^hatever else it does burn. 
But, I much question the utility even here ; and 
I think, that, in the long run, a water-drinker 
would beat a spirit drinker at any thing, pro- 
vided both had plenty of good food. And, be- 
sides, heer, which does not burn, at any rate, is 
within every one's reach in America, if he will 
but take the trouble to brew it. 

365. A man, at Botley, whom I was very se- 
verely reproaching for getting drunk and lying 
in the road, whose name was James Isaacs, 
and who was, by the by, one of the hardest 
workers I ever knew, said, in answer, " Why, 
" now. Sir, Noah and Lot were two very good 
" men, you know, and yet they loved a drop of 
" drink.'' " Yes, you drunken fool," replied I, 
" but you do not read that Isaac ever got 
" drunk and rolled about the road." I could 
not help thinking, however, that the Bible 
Societies, with the wise Emperor Alexander 
and the Holy Alliance at their head, might as 
well (to say nothing about the cant of the thing) 
leave the Bible to work its own way. I had 
seen Isaacs dead drunk, lying stretched out, 



300 MANNERS, CUSTOMS, AND [PART II. 

by my front gate, against the public highway ; 
and, if lie had followed the example of Noah, 
he would not have endeavoured to excuse him- 
self in the modest manner that he did, but 
would have affixed an everlastin<r curse on me 
and my children to all generations. 

36d. The soldiers, in the regiment that I be- 
longed to, many of whom served in the Ame- 
rican wai-, had a saying, that the Quakers used 
the word tired in place of the word drunk. 
Whether any of them do ever get tired them- 
selves, I know not; but, at any rate they most 
resolutely set their faces against the common 
use of spirits. They forbid their members to 
retail them ; and, in case of disobedience, they 
disoivn them. 

• 367. However, there is no remedy but the 
introduction of heer, and, I am very happy to 
know, that beer is, every day, becoming more 
and more fashionable. At Bristol in Pennsyl- 
vania, I was pleased to see excellent beer in 
clean and nice pewter pots. Beer does not kill. 
li does not eat out the vitals and take the co- 
lour from the cheek. It will make men " tired,'' 
indeed, by midnight; but it does not make 
them half dead in the morning. We call wine 
tbe jirice of the grape, and such it is with a 
proportion of ardent spirits, equal, in Portugal 



CHAP. XI.] CHARACTER OF THE PEOPLE. 361 

wine, to a fifth of the wine ; and, therefore, 
when a man has taken down a bottle of Port or 
of Madeira, he has nearly halj a pint of ardent 
spirits in him. And yet how many foolish mo- 
thers give their children Port wine to strengthen 
them! 1 never like your tvine-physieians, though 
they are great favourites v/ith but too many pa- 
tients. Boniface, in the Beaux Stratagem, 
says that he has eaten his ale, drunk his ale, 
worked upon his ale, and slept upon his ale, 
for forty years, and that he has grown fatter 
and fatter; but, that his wife (God rest her 
soul!) would not take it pure: she would 
adulterate it with brandy ; till, at last, finding 
that the poor woman was never well, he put 
a tub of her favourite by her bedside, which, 
in a short time, brought her " a happy release'* 
from this " state of probation," and carried 
her off into the " the world of spirits." Whether 
Boniface meant this as a pun, I do not know ; 
for, really, if I am to judge from the practice of 
many of the vagrant fanatics, I must believe, 
that, when they rave about the spirit's entering 
them, they mean that which goes out of a glass 
down their throat. Priests may make what 
they will of their devil; they may make him 
a reptile with a forked tongue, or a beast with 
a cloven hoof; they may, like Milton, dre^s 



362 MANNERS, CUSTOMS, AND [PART II. 

him out with seraphic wings; or like Saint 
Francis, they may give him horns and tail : 
but, I say that the devil, who is the strongest 
tempter, and who produces the most mischief 
in the world, approaches us in the shape of 
liquid, not melted brimstone, but wine, gin, 
brandy, rum, and whiskey. One comfort is, 
however, that this devil, of whose existence 
we can have no doubt, who is visible and even 
tangible, we can, if we will, without the aid 
of priests, or, rather, in spite of them, easily 
and safely set at defiance. There are many 
wrong things which men do against the general 
and natural bent of their minds. Fraud, theft, 
and even murder, are frequently, and most 
frequently, the offspring of want. In these 
cases, it is a choice of evils ; crime or hunger. 
But, drinking to excess is a man's own act; 
an evil deliberately sought after; an act of 
violence committed against reason and against 
nature; and that, too, without the smallest 
temptation, except from that vicious appetite, 
which he himself has voluntarily created. 

368. You, my dear Sir, stand in need of 
no such lectures as this, and the same is, I 
hope, the case with the far greater part of my 
readers ; but, if it tend, in the smallest degree, 
to check the fearful growth of this tree of 



CHAP. XI.] CHARACTER OF THE PEOPLE. 363 

unmixed evil ; if it should make the bottle less 
cherished even in one small qircle ; nay, if it 
keep but one young man in the world in the 
paths of sobriety, how could my time have 
been better bestowed? 



364 RURAL SPORTS. [PART II. 



CHAP. XII. 



RURAL SPORTS. 



36,9. 1 HERE are persons, who question the 
right of man to j3ursue and destroy the wild 
animals, which are called game. Such per- 
sons, however, claim the right of killing foxes 
and hawks; yet, these have as much right to 
live and to follow their food as pheasants and 
partridges have. This, therefore, in such per- 
sons, is 7ionsense. 

370. Others, in their mitigated hostility to the 
sports of the field, say, that it is wantojt cruelty 
to shoot or hunt; and that we kill animals from 
the farm-yard only because their flesh is ueces^ 
sary to our oirn existence. PROVE THAT. 
No : you cannot. If you could, it is but the 
" li/ranfs plea;' but you cannot: for we know 
that men can, and do, live without animal food, 
and, if their labour be not of an exhausting 
kind, live well too, and longer than those who 
eat it. It comes to this, then, that we kill hogs 
and oxen because we choose to kill them ; and, 
we kill game for precisely the same reason. 

3/1. A third class of objectors, seeing the 



CHAP. XII.] RURAL SPORTS. ^65 

weak position of the two former, and still re- 
solved to eat flesh, take their stand upon this 
ground : that sportsmen send some game off 
tvomided and leave them in a state of suffering. 
These gentlemen^ forget the operations per- 
formed upon calves, pigs, lambs and sometimes 
on poultry. Sir Isaac Coffin prides himself 
upon teaching the English ladies how to make 
turkey-capons! Only think of the separation 
of calves, pigs, and lambs, at an early age, from 
their mothers ! Go, you sentimental eaters of 
veal, sucking pig and lamb, and hear the 
mournful lowings, whinings, and bleatings ; ob- 
serve the anxious listen, the wistful look, and 
the dropping tear, of the disconsolate dams; 
and, then, while you have the carcasses of their 
young ones under your teeth, cry out, ,as soon 
as you can empty your mouths a little, against 
the cruelty of hunting and shooting. Get up 
from dinner (but take care to stuff well first), 
and go and drown the puppies of the bitch, and 
the kittens of the cat, lest they should share a 
little in what their mothers have guarded with 
so much fidelity ; and, as good stufSng may 
tend to make you restless in the night, order 
the geese to be picked alive, that, however your 
consciences may feel, your bed, at least, may 
be easy and soft. Witness all this with your 
own eyes ; and then go weeping to bed, at the 



366 RURAL SPORTS. [PART II. 

possibility of a hare having been terribly fright- 
ened without being killed, or of a bird having 
been left in a thicket with a shot in its body or 
a fracture in its wing. But, before you go up 
stairs, give your servant orders to be early at 
market for fish, fresh out of the water; that 
they may be scaled, or skinned alive ! A truce 
with you, then, sentimental eaters of flesh : and 
here I propose the terms of a lasting com- 
promise with you. We must, on each side, 
yield something: we sportsmen will content 
ourselves with merely seeing the hares skip and 
the birds fly; and you shall be content with 
the flesh and fish that come from cases of na- 
tural death, of which, 1 am sure, your compas- 
sionate disposition will not refuse us a trifling 
allowance. 

372. Nor have even the Pythagoreans a 
much better battery against us. Sir Richard 
Phillips, who once rang a peal in my ears 
against shooting and hunting, does, indeed, eat 
neither Jlesh, fish, nor Jowl. His abstinence 
surpasses that of a Carmelite, while his bulk 
would not disgrace a Benedictine Monk, or a 
Protestant Dean. But, he forgets, that his 
shoes and breeches and gloves are made of the 
skins of animals : he forgets that he ivrites (and • 
very eloquently too) with what has been cruelly 
taken from a fowl ; and that, in order to cover 



CHAP. XII.] RURAL SPORTS. 367 

the hooks which he has had made and sold, 
hundreds of flocks and scores of droves must 
have perished : nay, that, to get him his heaver- 
hat, a beaver must have been hunted and killed, 
and, in the doing of which, many beavers may 
have been wounded and left to pine away the 
rest of their lives; and, perhaps many httle 
orphan beavers, left to lament the murder of 
their parents. Ben Ley was the only real and 
sincere Pythagorean of modern times, that 1 
ever heard of. He protested, not only against 
eating the flesh of animals, but also against 
robbing their backs ; and, therefore, his dress 
consisted wholly oi flax. But, even he, like 
Sir Richard Phillips, eat milk, butter, cheese, 
and eggs ; though this was cruelly robbing the 
hens, cows, and calves ; and, indeed causing 
the murder of the calves. In addition, poor 
little Ben forgot the materials of hook-binding ; 
and, it was well he did ; for else, his Bible 
would have gone into the fire! 

373. Taking it for granted, then, that sports- 
men are as good as other folks on the score of 
humanity, the sports of the field, like every 
thing else done in the fields, tend to produce, 
or preserve health. I prefer them to all other 
pastime, because they produce early rising; 
because they have no tendency to lead young 
men into vicious habits. It is where men con- 

2 D 



368 RURAL SPORTS. [PART II. 

gregale that the vices haunt. A hunter or a 
shooter may also be a gambler and a drinker ; 
but, he is less likely to be fond of the two latter, 
if he be fond of the former. Boys will take to 
something in the way of pastime; and, it is 
better that they take to that which is innocent, 
healthy, and manly, than that which is vicious, 
unhealthy, and effeminate. Besides, the scenes 
of rural sport are necessarily at a distance from 
cities and toivns. This is another great consi- 
deration ; for though great talents are wanted 
to be employed in the hives of 7nen, they are 
very rarely acquired in these hives : the sur- 
rounding objects are too numerous, too near 
the eye, too frequently under it, and too arti- 
ficial. 

374. For these reasons I have always encou- 
raged my sons to pursue these sports. They 
have, until the age of 14 or 15, spent their time, 
by day, chiefly amongst horses and dogs, and 
in the fields and fiirm-yard ; and their candle- 
liirht has been spent chiefly in reading books 
about hunting and shooting and about dogs and 
horses. I have supplied them plentifully with 
hooks and prints relating to these matters. 
They have drawn horses, dogs, and game them- 
selves. These things, in which they took so 
deep an interest, not only engaged their atten- 
tion and wholly kept them from all taste for. 



CHAP. XII.] RURAL SPORTS. 369 

and even all knowledge of, cards and other 
senseless amusements; but, they led them to 
read and write of their oivn accord; and, never 
in my life have I set them a copy in writing nor 
attempted to teach them a word of reading. 
They have learnt to read by looking into books 
about dogs and game; and they have learnt to 
write by imitating my writing, and by writing 
endless letters to me, when I have been from 
home, about their dogs and other rural con- 
cerns. While the Borough-tyrants had me in 
Newgate for two years, with a thousand pounds 
fine, for having expressed my indignation at 
their flogging of Englishmen, in the heart of 
England, under a guard of Hanoverian sabres, 
I received volumes of letters from my children ; 
and, T have them now, from the scrawl of three 
years, to the neat and beautiful hand of thirteen. 
I never told them of any errors in their letters. 
All was well. The best evidence of the utility 
of their writing, and the strongest encourage- 
ment to write again, was a very clear answer 
from me, in a very precise hand, and upon very 
nice paper, which they never failed promptly 
to receive. They have all written to me before 
they could form a single letter. A little bit of 
paper, with some ink-marks on it, folded up 
by themselves, and a wafer stuck in it, used to 
be sent to me, and it was sure to bring the 
2 D 2 



370 RURAL SPORTS. [PART II. 

writer a very, very kind answer. Thus have 
they gone on. So far from being a trouble to 
me, they have been all pleasure and advantage. 
For many years they have been so many secre- 
taries. I have dictated scores of registers to 
them, which hdiwe gone to the press icithout my 
ever looking at them. I dictated registers to 
them at the age of thirteen, and even of twelve. 
They have, as to trust-ivorthiness, been grown 
persons, at eleven or twelve. I could leave my 
house and affairs, the paying of men, or the 
going from home on business, to them at an 
age when boys in England, in general, want 
servants to watch them to see that they do not 
kill chickens, torment kittens, or set the build- 
ings on fire. 

375. Here is a good deal of boasting; but, 
it will not be denied, that I have done a great 
deal in a short public life, and I see no harm in 
telling my readers of any of the means, that I 
have employed ; especially as 1 know of few 
greater misfortunes than that of breeding up 
things to be school-boys all their lives. It is 
not, that I have so many wonders of the world: 
it is that I have pursued a rational plan of edu- 
cation, and one that any man may pursue, if he 
will, with similar effects. I remembered, too, 
that 1 myself had had a sportsman-education. 
I ran after the hare-hounds at the age of nine or 



CHAP. XII.] RURAL SPORTS. 371 

ten. I have many and many a day left the 
rooks to dig up the wheat and peas, while 1 
followed the hounds ; and have returned home 
at dark-night, with my legs full of thorns and 
my belly empty to go supperless to bed, and 
to congratulate myself if I escaped a flogging. 
I was sure of these consequences ; but that had 
not the smallest effect in restraining me. All 
the lectures, all the threats, vanished from my 
mind in a moment upon hearing the first cry of 
the hounds, at which my heart used to be ready 
to bound out of my body. 1 remembered all 
this. I traced to this taste my contempt for 
card-playing and for all childish and effeminate 
amusements. And, therefore, I resolved to 
leave the same course freely open to my sons. 
This is my plan of education : others may fol- 
low what plan they please. 

376. This Chapter will be a head without a 
body; for, it will not require much time to give 
an account of the rural sports in America. The 
general taste of the country is to kill the things 
in order to have them to eat, which latter forms 
no part of the sportsman's objects. 

377. There cannot be said to be any thing 
here, which we, in England, call hunting-. The 
deer are hunted by dogs, indeed, but the hunters 
do not follow. They are posted at their several 
stations to shoot the deer as he passes. This 



372 RURAL SPORTS. [PART 11. 

is only one remove from the Indian hunting. 
I never saw, that 1 know of, any man that had 
seen a pack of hounds in America, except those 
kept by old John Brown, in Bucks County, 
Pennsylvania, who was the only hunting Qua- 
ker that I ever heard of, and who was grand- 
father of the famous General Brown, [n short, 
there is none of what we call hunting ; or, so 
little, that no man can expect to meet with it. 

378. No coursing. I never saw a greyhound 
here. Indeed, there are no hares that have the 
same manners that ours have, or any thing like 
their fleetness. The woods, too, or some sort 
of cover, except in the singular instance of the 
plains in this Island, are too near at hand. 

379. But, of shooting the variety is endless. 
Pheasants, partridges, wood -cocks, snipes, 
grouse, wild-ducks of many sorts, teal, plover, 
rabbits. 

380. There is a disagreement between the 
North and the South as to the naming of the 
two former. North of New Jersey the phea- 
sants are called partridges, and the partridges 
are called quails. To the South of New Jersey, 
they are called by what I think are their proper 
names, taking the English names of those birds 
to be proper. For, pheasants do not remain in 
coveys; but, mix, like common fowls. The in- 
tercourse between the males and females is 



CHAP. XII.] RURAL SPORTS. 373 

promiscuous, and not by pairs, as in the case 
of partridges. And these are the manners of 
the American pheasants, which are found by 
ones, twos, and so on, and never in families, 
except when young, when, like chickens, they 
keep with the old hen. The American par- 
tridges are not quails; because quails are gre- 
garious. They keep in Jlocks, like rooks (called 
crows in America), or like larks, oy starlings; 
of which the reader will remember a remark- 
able instance in the history of the migration of 
those grumbling vagabonds, the Jews, soon 
after their march from Horeb, when the quails 
came and settled upon each other's backs to a 
height of two cubits, and covered a superficial 
space of two daj^s' journey in diameter. It is 
a well known fact, that quails ^ocA;: it is also 
well known, that partridges do not, but that 
they keep in distinct families, which we call 
coveys from the French couvee, which means the 
eggs or brood which a hen covers at one time. 
The American partridges live in coveys. The 
cock and her pair in the spring. They have 
their brood by sitting alternately on the eggs, 
just as the English partridges do ; the young 
ones, if none are killed, or die, remain with the 
old ones till spring; the covey always live 
within a small distance of the same spot; if 
frightened into a state of separation, they call 



374 RURAL SPORTS. [PART IT. 

to each other and re-assemble ; they roost all 
together in a round ring, as close as they can 
sit, the tails inward and the heads outward ; 
and are, in short, in all their manners, precisely 
the same as the English partridge, with this 
exception, that they will sometimes alight on a 
rail or a bough, and that, when the hen sits, 
the cock, perched at a little distance, makes a 
sort of periodical whistle, in a monotonous, but 
very soft and sweet tone. 

381. The size of the pheasant is about the 
half of that of the English. The plumage is by 
no means so beautiful ; but, the flesh is far 
more delicate. The size of the partridge bears 
about the same proportion. But its plumage 
is more beautiful than that of the English, and 
its flesh is more delicate. Both are delightful, 
though rather difficult, shooting. The pheasant 
does not tower, but darts through the trees ; 
and the partridge does not rise boldly, but 
darts away at no great height from the ground. 
Some years they are more abundant than other 
years. This is an abundant year. T'here are, 
perhaps, fifty coveys within half a mile of my 
house. 

382. The wood-cocks are, in all respects, like 
those in England, except that they are only 
about three-fifths of the size. They breed here ; 
and are in such numbers, that some men kill 



CHAP. XII.] RURAL SPORTS. 875 

twenty brace, or more in a day. Their haunts 
are in marshy places, or woods. The shooting 
of them lasts from the fourth of July till the 
hardish frosts come. The last we killed this 
year was killed on the '^\st of November. So 
that here are five months of this sport ; and 
pheasants and partridges are shot from Sep- 
tember to April. 

383. The snipes are called English snipes^ 
which they resemble in all respects, and are 
found in great abundance in the usual haunts 
of snipes. 

384. The grouse is precisely like the Scotch 
grouse. There is only here and there a place 
where they are found. But, they are, in those 
places, killed in great quantities in the fall of 
the year. 

385. As to wild ducks and other water-fowl, 
which are come at by lying in wait, and killed 
most frequently swimming, or sitting, they are 
slaughtered in whole flocks. An American 
counts the cost of powder and shot. If he is 
deliberate in every thing else, this habit will 
hardly forsake him in the act of shooting. When 
the sentimental flesh-eaters hear the report of 
his gun, they may begin to pull out their white 
handkerchiefs; for death follows his pull of the 
trigger, with, perhaps, even more certainty than 
it used to follow the lancet of Doctor Rush* 



376 RURAL SPORTS. [pART II. 

386. The Plover is a fine bird, and is found 
in great numbers upon the plains, and in the 
cultivated fields, of this Island, and at a mile 
from my house. Plovers are very shy and wary; 
but they have ingenious enemies to deal vv^ith. 
A waggon, or carriage of some sort, is made use 
of to approach them ; and then they are easily 
killed. 

387. Rabbits are very abundant in some 
places. They are killed by shooting; for all 
here is done with the gun. No reliance is 
placed upon a dog. 

388. As to game-laws there are none, except 
those which appoint the times for killing. Peo- 
ple go where they like, and, as to wild animals, 
shoot what they like. There is the Common 
Law, which forbids trespass, and the Statute 
Law, I believe, of " ynalicious ttespass,'' or tres- 
pass after warning. And these are more than 
enough ; for nobody, that I ever hear of, warns 
people off. So that, as far as shooting goes, 
and that is the sport which is the most general 
favourite, there never was a more delightful 
country than this Island. The sky is so fair, 
the soil so dry, the cover so convenient, the 
game so abundant, and the people, go where 
you will, so civil, hospitable, and kind. 



CHAP. XIII.] PAUPERS. 377 



CHAP. Xlll. 



PAUPERS. 



389. It is a subject of great exultation in 
the hireling newspapers of the Borough-villains, 
that " poverty and poor-rates have found their 
" way to America." As to the former it is lite- 
rally true ; for the poverty that is here has, al- 
most the w^hole of it, come from Europe; but, 
the means of keeping the poor arise here upon 
the spot. 

390. Great sums of money are raised in New 
York, Philadelphia, Boston, and other great 
sea-ports, for the maintenance of " the poor;' 
and, the Boroughmongers eagerly catch at the 
published accounts of this concern, and produce 
them as proofs, that misery is as great in Ame- 
rica as it is under their iron rod. 1 will strip 
them of this pretext in a few minutes. 

391. Let us take New York, for instance. 
It is notorious that, whatever may be the num- 
ber of persons relieved by poor rates, the greater 
part of them are Europeans, who have come 
hither, at different periods and under circum- 
stances of distress, different, of course, in de- 



378 PAUPERS. [part II. 

gree. There is, besides, a class of persons 
here of a description very peculiar; namely; 
the free riegroes. Whatever may have been the 
motives, which led to their emancipation, it is 
very certain, that it has saddled the white peo- 
ple with a charge. These negroes are a dis- 
orderly, improvident set of beings; and, the 
paupers, in the country, consist almost tv holly 
of them. Take out the foreigners and the ne- 
groes, and you will find, that the paupers of 
New York do not amount to a hundredth part 
of those of Liverpool, Bristol, Birmingham, or 
London, population for population. New York 
is a sea-port, and the only great sea- port of a 
large district of country. All the disorderly 
crowd to it. It teems with emigrants ; but, 
even there, a pauper, who is a white, native 
American, is a great rarity. 

392. But, do the Borough-villains think, that 
the word pauper has the same meaning here 
that it has under their scorpion rod ? A pau- 
per under them means a man that is ahle and 
willing to work, and who does work like a 
horse -^ and who is so taxed, has so much of 
his earnings taken from him by them to pay 
the interest of their Debt and the pensions of 
themselves and their wives, children, and de- 
pendents, that he is actually starving and faint- 
ing at his ivork. This is what is meant by a 



CHAP. XIII.] PAUPERS. 379 

pauper in England. But, at New York, a 
pauper is, generally, a man who is unable, or, 
which is more frequently the case, unwilling to 
work; who is become debilitated from a vicious 
life ; or, who, like boroughmongers and Priests, 
finds it more pleasant to live upon the labour 
of others than upon his own labour. A pauper 
in England is fed upon bones, garbage, refuse 
meat, and *' substitutes for breads A pauper 
here expects, and has, as much flesh, fish and 
bread and cake as he can devour. How gladly 
would many a little tradesman, or even little 
farmer, in England, exchange his diet for that 
of a New York pauper ! 

393. Where there are such paupers as those 
in England, there are beggars; because, when 
they find, that they are nearly starved in the 
former character, they will try the latter in 
spite of all the vagrant acts that any hell-born 
Funding system can engender. And, who ever 
saw a beggar in America ? " 1 have !" exclaims 
some spye of the Boroughmongers, who hopes 
to become a Boroughmonger himself And so 
have T too. I have seen a couple since I have 
been on this Island ; and of them I will speak 
presently. But there are different sorts of beg- 
gars too as well as of paupers. In England a 
beggar is a poor creature, with hardly rags 
(mere rags) sufficient to cover its nakedness, so 



380 PAUPERS. [part II. 

far even as comiiion decency requires. A 
wretched mortal, the bare sight of whom would 
freeze the soul of an American within him. A 
dejected, broken down thing, that approaches 
you bare-headed, on one knee, with a tremb- 
ling voice, with " pray bestow your charity, 
" for the Lord Jesus Christ's sake have conipas- 
" sion on a poor soul ;" and, if you toss a half- 
pemiy into his ragged hat, he exclaims in an 
extacy, " God Almighty bless your honour T 
though you, perhaps, be but a shoe-black your- 
self An American beggar, dressed very much 
like other people, walks up to you as boldly 
as if his pockets were crammed with money, 
and, with a half smile, that seems to say, he 
doubts of the propriety of his conduct, very 
civilly asks you, if you can HELP him to a 
quarter of a dollar. He mostly states the pre- 
cise sum ; and never sinks below silver. In 
short, there is 710 begging, properly so called. 
There is nothing that resembles English beg- 
ging even in the most distant degree. 

394, I have now been here twenty months, and 
I have been visited by only two beggars. The 
first was an E7iglishnum, and what was more 
to me, a Surrey man too ; a native of Croydon. 
He asked me if I could help him to a quarter 
of a dollar; for, it is surprising how apt scho- 
lars they are. " Yes," said I, " if you will 



CHAP. XIII.] PAUPERS. 381 

" help my men to do some work first." He 
said he could not do that, for he was irt a 
hurry. I told him, that, if a man, with a dol- 
lar a day, and pork for the tenth part of a dol- 
lar a pound, could not earn his living, he ought 
to be hanged; " however," said I, " as you 
" are the first Surrey man I ever saw in Ame- 
" rica besides myself, if you be not hanged be- 
" fore this day week, and come here again, I 
" will help you to a quarter of a dollar." He 
came, and 1 kept my word. The second beg- 
gar was an Italian. This was a personage of 
" hisch consideration^ He was introduced to 
the side of my writing table. He behaved with 
a sort of dignified politeness, mixed with some- 
what of reserve, as if ^he thought the person to 
whom he was addressing himself a very good 
sort of man, but of rank inferior to himself. 
We could not understand each other at first ; 
but, we got into French, and then we could 
talk. He having laid down his hat, and being 
seated, pulled out a large parcel of papers, 
amongst which was a certificate from the Secre- 
tary of State of His Majesty the King of Sar- 
dinia, duly signed and countersigned, and seal- 
ed with a seal having the armorial bearings of 
that sovereign. Along with this respectable 
paper was an English translation of it, done at 
New York, and authenticated by the Mayor and 
a Notary Public, with all due formality. All 



382 PAUPERS. [part II. 

the time these papers were opening, I was 
wondering what this gentleman could be. 1 
read, and stared, and read again. I was 
struck not less by the novelty than the auda- 
city of the thing. " So then," said I, breaking 
silence, " your sovereign, after taxing you to 
" your ruin, has been graciously pleased to 
** give you credentials to show, that he autho- 
** rizes you to heg in America; and, not only 
" for yourself but for others; so that you are 
** an accredited ambassador from the beggars 
" in Sardinia !" He found he was got into 
tvrong hands: and endeavoured to put aw ejid 
to the negociation at once, by observing, that 
1 was not forced to give, and that my simple 
negative was enough. '* J beg your pardon, 
" Sir," said I, " you have submitted your case 
*' to me ; you have made an appeal to me ; your 
" statement contains reasons for my giving; and 
" that gives me a right to shew, if 1 can, why 1 
" ought not to give." He then, in order to pre- 
vent all reasoning, opened his Subscription, or 
Begging-book, and said : " you see, Sir, others 
" give !" " Now," said I, '* you reason, but 
" your reasoning is defective; for, if you were 
*' to shew me, that you had robbed all my 
" neighbours without their resenting it, would 
" it follow that I must let you rob me too?' 
" Ah! par bleu,'' said he, snatching up his 
** credentials, "jfc vois que vous Hes un avare.' 



GHAP. XIII.] PAUPERS. 383 

—Ah / hy Old Nick, I see you are a Miser. — 
And off he went ; not, however, before I had 
had time to tell him to be sure to give my best 
respects to the king of Sardinia, and to tell 
His Majesty to keep his beggars at home. 

395. I afterwards found, that cases like this 
are by no means rare; and that, in Pennsylvania, 
in particular, they have accredited beggars 
from all parts of the continent of Europe. This 
may be no unuseful hint for the English Bo- 
roughraongers, who have an undoubted claim 
to precedence before the German and Italian 
beggars. The Boroughmongers may easily 
add a legation of mendicity to their Envoyships 
and Consulships, without any great disgrace to 
the latter; and, since they can get nothing out of 
America by bullying and attacking, try what 
can be gained by canting and begging. The 
chances are, however, that many of them will, 
before they die, be beggars in their own proper 
persons and for their own use and behoof; and 
thus give a complete rounding to their career ; 
plunderers in prosperity, and beggars in ad- 
versity. 

396. As to the poor-rates, the real poor-rates, 
you must look to the country. In England the 
poor-rates equal in amount the rent of the land ! 
Here, I pay, in poor-rates, only seven dollars 
upon a rent of six hundred! And I pay my 

2 E 



384 PAUPERS. [part II. 

full share. In short, how is it possible, that 
there should be paupers to any amount, where 
the common average wages of a labourer are 
six dollars a week ; that is to say, twenty-seven 
shiUiugs sterling, and where the necessaries of 
life are, upon an average, of half the price that 
they are in England ? How can a man be a 
pauper, where he can earn ten pounds of prime 
hog-meat a day, six days in every week? 1 
was at a horse-race, where I saw at least five 
thousand men, and not one man in shabby 
clothes. 

397. But, some go back after they come from 
England ; and the Consul at New York has 
thousands of applications from men who want 
to go to Canada; and little bands of them go 
off to that Jjne country very often. These are 
said to be disappointed people. Yes, they ex- 
pected the people at New York to come out 
in boats, J suppose, carry them on shore, and 
give up their dinners and beds to them ! If they 
will ivork, they will soon find beds and din- 
ners : if they will not, they ought to have none. 
What, did they expect to find here the same 
faces and the same posts and trees that they 
left behind them ? Such foolish people are not 
worth notice. The lazy^ whether male or fe- 
male, all hate a government, under which every 
one enjoys his earnings, a7id no more. Low, 



CHAP. XIII.] PAUPERS. 385 

poor and miserable as they may be, their prin- 
ple is precisely the same as that of Borough- 
mongers and Priests : namely, to live ivithout 
labour on the earnings of others. The desire to 
live thus is almost universal ; but with sluggards, 
thieves, Boroughmongers, and Priests, it is a 
principle of action. Ask a Priest tvlft/ he is a 
Priest. He will say (for he has vowed it on 
the Altar !) that he believes himself called by 
the Holy Ghost to take on him the care of 
souls. But, put the thing close to him ; push 
him hard ; and you will find it was the benefice, 
the money and the tithes, that called him. Ask 
him what he wanted them for. That he might 
live, and live, too, without work. Oh ! this 
work ! It is an old saying, that, if the Devil 
find a fellow idle, he is sure to set him to 
work ; a saying the truth of which the Priests 
seem to have done their utmost to establish. 

398. Of the goers hack was a Mr. OiNSLOw 
Wakeford, who was a coach-maker, some 
years, in Philadelphia, and who, having, from 
nothing hardly to begin with, made a comfort- 
able fortune, ivent hack about the time that I 
returned home. I met him, by accident, at 
Goodwood, in Sussex, in 1814. We talked 
about America. Said he, " [ have often thought 
" of the foolish way, in which my good friend, 
" North, and I used to talk about the happy 

2 e2 



386 PAUPERS. [part II. 

" state of England. The money that I have 
*' paid in taxes here, ivould have kept me like a 
" gentleman there. Why," added he, *' if a la- 
" bouring man here were seen having in his 
''possession, the fowls and other things that 
" labourers in Philadelphia carry home from 
** market, he would be stopped in the street, 
*' and taken up on suspicion of being a thief; upon 
" the supposition of its being impossible that he 
" could have come honestly by them." 1 told 
this story after I got home ; and we read in the 
news-papers, not long afterwards, that a Scotch 
Porter, in London, who had had a little tub of 
butter sent him up from his relations, and who 
was, in the evening, carrying it from the vessel 
to his home, had actually been seized by the 
Police, lodged in prison all night, brought be- 
fore the magistrate the next day, and not re- 
leased until he had produced witnesses to prove 
that he had not stolen a thing, which ivas thought 
far too valuable for such a man to come at by 
honest means ! What a state of things must that 
be? What! A man in England taken up as a 
thief and crammed into prison, merely because 
he was in possession of 20 pounds of butter ! 

399. Mr. Wakeford is, 1 dare say, alive. 
He is a very worthy man. He lives at Chi- 
chester. I appeal to him for the truth of the 
anecdote relating to him. As to the butter 



CHAP. XIII.] PAUPERS. 387 

ztory^ I cannot name the precise date; but, I 
seriously declare the fact to have been as 1 
have related it. I told Mr. Wakeford, who 
is a very quiet man, that, in order to make his 
lot in England as good as it was in America, 
he must help us to destroy the Boroughmongers. 
He left America, he told me, principally in 
consequence of the loss of his daughter (an only 
child) at Philadelphia, where she, amongst 
hundreds and hundreds of others, fell before 
the desolating lancets of 1797, 1798 and 1799. 



388 GOVERNMENT, LAWS, [pART II. 



CHAP. XIV. 

GOVERNMENT, LAWS, AND RELIGION. 

400. Mr. Professor Christian, who has 
written great piles of Notes on Blackstone's 
Commentaries, and whose Notes differ from 
those of the Note-writers on the Bible, in this, 
that the latter only tend to add darkness to 
that which was sufficiently dark before, while 
the Professor's Notes, in every instance, with- 
out a single exception, labour most arduously, 
and not always without success, to render that 
obscure, which was before clear as the sun 
now is in Long Island, on this most beautiful 
fifth of December, 1818: this Professor, who, 
I believe, is now a Judge, has, in his Note 
126 on Book I, drawn what he calls " a dis- 
" Unction'' between Political and Civil Liberty, 
which distinction contains as to ideas, manner, 
and expressions, a complete specimen of what, 
in such a case, a writer ought to avoid. 

401. Leaving definitions of this sort to such 
conceited bunglers as the Professor, I will just 
give a sketch (for it can be nothing more) of the 
Government and Laws of this country. 



Chap, xiv.] and religion. 389 

402. The country is divided into States. 
Each of these States has its own separate go- 
vernment, consisting of a 6ro?;<?mor, Legislative 
Body, and Judiciary DepartmetU. But, then 
there is a General Government, which is, in 
fact, the government of the whole nation; for, 
it alone can do any thing with regard to other 
nations. This General Government consists of 
a President, a Septate, a House of Represen- 
tatives, all which together are called the Con- 
gress. The President is elected for four years, 
the Senate for four years, and the Heuse of 
Representatives for two years. 

403. In most of the State-Governments, the 
election is annual for the House of Represen- 
tatives. In some the Governor and the Senate 
are elected for a longer period, not exceeding 
four years in any case. But, in some, the 
whole. Governor, Senate, and Representatives, 
are elected ANNUALLY; and this last ap- 
pears now to be the prevailing taste. 

404. The suffrage, or qualification of electors, 
is very various. In some States every free 
man ; that is, every man who is not hondman 
or slam, has a vote. In others, the payment 
of a tax is required. In others, a man must 
be worth a hundred pounds. In Virginia a man 
must be 2, freeholder. 

405. This may serve to show how little Mr. 



390 GOVERNMENT, LAWS, [PART II. 

Jerry Bentham, the new Mentor of the West- 
minster Telemachus, knows about the political 
part of the American governments. Jerry, 
whose great, and, indeed, only argument, in 
support of annual parliaments and universal 
suffrage, is, that America is so happy under 
such a system, has, if we were to oum him, 
furnished our enemies with a complete answer; 
for, they have, in order to silence him, only to 
refer to the facts of his argument of happy ex- 
perience. By silencing him, however, I do not 
mean, the stopping of his tongue, or pen ; for 
nothing but mortality will ever do that. This 
everlasting babbler has aimed a sort of stiletto 
stroke at me ; /or what God knows, except it 
be to act a consistent part, by endeavouring to 
murder the man whom he has so frequently 
robbed, and whose facts and thoughts, though 
disguised and disgraced by the robber's quaint 
phraseology, constitute the better part of his 
book. Jerry, who was made a Reformer by 
Pitt's refusal to give him a contract to build a 
penitentiary, and to make him prhne adminis* 
trator of penance, that is to say, Beggar-Whip^ 
per General, is a very proper person to be 
toasted by those, who have plotted and con- 
spired against Major Cartwright. Mr. Broug- 
ham praises Jerry : that is enough ! 

406. In the four New England States, the 



CHAP. XIV.] AND RELIGION. 391 

qualification was a hundred pounds. But, one 
of those States, Connecticut, has, to her sjreat 
honour, recently set an example worthy of the 
imitation of the other three. A new constitU' 
tion has, during this year, been formed in that 
State, according to which all the elections are 
to be annual; and, as to the suffrage^ 1 will 
give it in the words of the instrument itself: 
" Every male white citizen of the United States, 
** who shall have gained a settlement in this 
" state, attained the age of twenty-one years, 
" and resided in the town [that is parish in the 
*' English meaning] in which he may offer hini- 
•' self to be admitted to the privilege of being 
" an elector, at least six months preceding, 
•' and have a freehold estate of the yearly value 
" of seven dollars in this State; — OR, having 
" been enrolled in the militia, shall have per- 
" formed military duty therein for the term of 
*' one year, next preceding the time he shall 
" offer himself for admission, or, being liable 
*' thereto, shall have been, by authority of law, 
*' altogether excused therefrom ; — OR, shall 
" have paid a State Tax within the year next 
" preceding the time he shall present himself for, 
" admission, and shall sustain a good moral 
" character, shall, on his taking the oath pre- 
** scribed, he an elector'' 

407. And then, the proof of bad moral cha- 



392 GOVERNMENT, LAWS, [pART II. 

racter, is, '* a conviction of hrihery, forgery, 
'■'^ perjury, duelling, fraudulent bankruptcy, 
" theft, or other offences, for which an in- 
*' famous punishment is inflicted." ^y forgery 
is not, of course, contemplated puff-out forgery ; 
for that, as an act oi resistance of oppression, is 
fully justifiable : it is not only not an immoral, 
but it is a meritorious act. The forgery here 
meant is forgery committed against honest men, 
who, when they " p7^omise to pay," mean to pay, 
and do pay when called upon. " Bribery' is 
very properly set at the head of the disqualifi- 
cations ; but, what a nest of villains it would 
exclude in England ! While men are mention- 
ed, but, another clause, admits all the Blacks 
now free, though it shuts out future comers of 
that colour, or of the yellow hue ; which is per- 
fectly just; for, Connecticut is not to be the 
receptacle of those, whom other States may 
choose to release from slavery, seeing that she 
has now no slaves of her oivn. 

408. Thus, then, this netv Constitution ; a 
constitution formed by the steadiest community 
in the whole world ; a constitution dictated by 
the most ample experience, gives to the people, 
as to the three branches of the government (the 
Governor, Senate, and Representatives) pre- 
cisely what we reformers in England ask as to 
only one branch out of the three. Whoever 



CHAP. XIV.] AND RELIGION. 39.3 

has a freehold worth a guinea and a half a year, 
though he pay no tax, and though he be not 
enrolled in the militia, has a vote. Whoever 
pays a tax, though he be not enrolled in the 
militia, and have no freehold, has a vote. Who- 
ever is enrolled in the militia, though he have 
no freehold and pay no tax, has a vote. So 
that nothing but beggars, paupers, and crimi- 
nals, can easily be excluded ; and, you will 
observe, if you please. Messieurs Borough- 
mongers, that the State taxes are all direct, 
and so contemptible in amount, as not to be, all 
taken together, enough to satisfy the maw of a 
single sinecure place-man in England ; and that 
the Electors choose, and annually too, King, 
Lords, and Commons. Now, mind, this change 
has been deliberately made by the most delibe- 
rate people that ever lived on the earth. New 
England is called, and truly, " the Land of 
" Steady Habits;" but, a Connecticut man is 
said to be a ''full-blooded Yankey," and Yan- 
key means New Englander. So that, here are 
the steadiest of the steady adopting, after all their 
usual deliberation and precaution, in a time of 
profound tranquillity, and without any party 
spirit or delusion, the plan of us ''wild and 
*' mad'' Reformers of Old England. Please 
God, J will, before T go home, perform a pil- 
grimage into this State ! 



394 GOVERNMENT, LAWS, [PART II, 

409. In Virginia, and the States where negro 
slavery exists, the slaves are reckoned amongst 
the pcpvlalion in apportioning the seats in the 
Generul Congress. So that, the slaves do not 
vote; hilt, their owners have votes for them. This is 
what Davis Giddy, Wilberforce, and the Spawn 
of the Green Room, call virtual representation. 
And this, to be sure, is what Sir Francis 
BuRDETT, in his speech at the Reading Dinner, 
meant by universal INTERESTS ! From uni- 
versal suffrage, he came down to general suffrage : 
this was only nonsefise; but, universal INTE- 
RESTS is downright borough-mongering. Well 
may he despair of doing any good in the House 
of Commons ! " Universal interests" is the Vir- 
ginian plan ; and, in that state of things, by no 
means unwise or unjust ; for, it is easier to talk 
about freeing black slaves, then it is to do it. 
The planters in the Southern States are not to 
blame for having slaves, until some man will 
show how they are to get rid of them. No one 
has yet discovered the means. Virtual repre- 
sentation, or, in other words, Universal interests, 
is as good a thing as any one can devise for 
those States ; and, if Sir Francis will but 
boldly declare, that the people of England must 
necessarily remain slaves, his joining of Davis 
Giddy and Canning, will be very consistent 
Let him black the skins of the people of Eng- 



CHAP. XIV.] AND RELIGION. 395 

land, and honestly call a part of them his pro- 
perty, and then he will not add the meanest to 
the most dastardly apostacy. 

410. The right of suffrage in America is, how- 
ever, upon the whole, sufficient to guard the peo- 
ple against any general and long-existing abuse 
of power ; for, let it be borne in mind, that here 
the people elect all the persons, who are to 
exercise power ; while, even if our Reform were 
obtained, there would still be Uvo branches out 
of the three, over whom the people would have 
no direct controul. Besides, in England, Ire- 
land, and Scotland, there is an established 
Church ; a richly endowed and powerful hier- 
archy ; and this, which is really ?i fourth branch 
of the government, has nothing to resemble it 
in America. So that, in this country, the whole 
of the Government may be truly said to be in 
the hands of the people. The people are, in 
reality as well as in name, represented. 

411. The consequences of this are, 1st. that, if 
those who are chosen do not behave well, they 
are not chosen a second time ; 2nd, that there 
are no sinecure placemen and place women^ 
grantees, pensioners tvithout services, and big 
placemen who swallow the earnings of two or 
three thousand men each ; 3rd, that there is no 
military staff to devour more than the whole of 
a government ought to cost ; 4th, that there are 



396 GOVERNMENT, LAWS, [pART U- 

no proud and insolent grasping Borough- 
mongers, who make tiie people toil and sweat 
to keep them and their families in luxury ; 
5th, that seats in the Congress are not like 
stalls in Sniithtield, bought and sold, or hired 
out ; 6th, that the Members of Congress do not 
sell their votes at so much a vote ; 7th, that 
there is no waste of the public money, and no 
expenses occasioned by the bribing of electors, 
or by the hiring of Spies and informers ; 8th, 
that there are no shootings of the people, and 
no legal murders committed, in order to defend 
the government against the just vengeance of 
an oppressed and insulted nation. But, all is 
harmony, peace and prosperity. Every man is 
zealous in defence of the laws, because every 
man knows that he is governed by laws, to 
which he has really and truly given his assent. 
412. x4s to the nature of the Laws, the Com- 
mon Law of England is the Common Law of 
America. These States were formerly Colonies 
of EngUmd. Our Boroughmongers wished to 
tax them without their own consent. But, the Co- 
lonies, standing upon the ancient Laws of Eng- 
land, which say that no man shall be taxed with- 
out his own consent^ resisted the Boroughmon- 
gers of that day ; overcame them in war ; cast 
off all dependence, and became free and inde- 
pendent States. But, the great man, who con- 



CHAP. XIV.] AND RELIGION. 397 

ducted that Revolution, as well as the people 
in general, were too wise to cast off the excel- 
lent laws of their forefathers. Thej% therefore, 
declared, that the Common Law of England 
should remain, being subject to such modifica- 
tions as might be necessary in the new circum- 
stances in which the people were placed. The 
Common JLaiv means, the aiicient and ordinary 
usages and customs of the land with regard to 
the means of protecting jiroj^erty avid persons 
and of punishing crimes. This law is no tci'it- 
ten or printed thing. It is more ancient than 
books. It had its origin in the hearts of our 
forefathers, and it has lived in the hearts of their 
sons, from generation to generation. Hence it is 
emphatically called the Law of the Land. Juries, 
Judges, Courts of Justice, Sheriffs, Constables, 
Head-boroughs, Hey wards. Justices of the 
Peace, and all their numerous and useful powers 
and authorities, make part of this Law of the 
Land. The Boroughmougers would fain per- 
suade us, that it is they who have given us this 
Law, o^it of pure generosity. But, we should 
bear in mind, that this Law is more ancient, 
and far more ancient, than the titles of even the 
most ancient of their families. And, accord- 
ingly, when the present Royal Family were 
placed upon the throne, there was a solemn 
declaration by the Parliament in these words : 



398 GOVERXnVIENT, LAWS, [PART II. 

" The Laws of England are the Birthright of 
*' the People of England." The Boroughmon- 
gers, by giving new powers to Justices of the 
Peace and Judges, setting aside the trial by 
Jury in many cases, both of property and per- 
son, even before the present horrible acts ; and 
by a thousand other means, have, by Acts of 
Parliament, greatly despoiled us of the Laiv of 
the Land; but, never have they given us any 
one good in addition to it. 

413. The Americans have taken special care 
to prevent the like encroachments on their 
rights : so that, while they have Courts of Jus- 
tice, Juries, Judges, Sheriffs, and the rest, as 
we have ; while they have all the good part of 
the Laws now in force in England, they have 
none of the had. They have none of that Sta- 
tute Laiv of England, or Act of Parliament 
Law, which has robbed us of a great part, and 
the best part of our " Birthright." 

414. It is, as I said before, not my intention 
to go much into particulars here ; but, I cannot 
refrain from noticing, that the People of Ame- 
rica, when they come to settle their new go- 
vernments, took special care to draw up specific 
Constitutions, in which they forbade any of 
their future law-makers to allow of any Titles 
of Nobility, any Privileged Class, any Esta- 
blished Church, or, to pass any laiv to give to 



CHAP. XIV.] AND RELIGION. 399 

any body the power of imprisoning men other- 
wise than in due course of Common Law, except 
in cases of actual invasion or open rebellion. 
And, though actual invasion took place several 
times during' the late war ; though the Capital 
city was in possession of our troops, no such 
law was passed. Such is the effect of that con- 
fidence, which a good and just government has 
in the people whom it governs ! 

415. There is one more particular, as to the 
Laws of America, on which, as it is of very 
great importance, I think it right to remark. 
The uses, which have been made of the Laiv of 
Lihel in England are well known. In the first 
place, the Common Lavj knows of no such of- 
fence as that of criminal lihel, for which so 
many men have been so cruelly punished in 
England. The crime is an invention of late 
date. The Common Law punished men for 
h caches of the peace, but no tvords, whether 
written or spoken, can be a breach of the peace. 
But, then some Boroughmonger judges said, 
that words might tend to produce a breach of 
the peace ; and that, therefore, it was criminal 
to use such words. This, though a palpable 
stretch of law, did, however, by usage, become 
law so far as to be acted upon in America as 
well as in England ; and, when 1 lived in the 

2f 



400 GOVERNMENT, LAWS, [PART II. 

State of Pennsylvania, eighteen years ago, 
the Chief Justice of that State, finding even 
this law not sufficiently large, gave it another 
stretch to make it fit me. Whether the Legis- 
lature of that State will repair this act of injus- 
tice and tyranny remains yet to be seen. 

116. The State of New York, in which I 
now live, awakened, probably by the act of 
tyranny, to which I allude, has taken care, by 
an Act of the State, passed in 1805, to put an 
end to those attacks on the press by charges of 
constructive libel, or, at least, to make the law 
such, that no man shall suflTer from the prefer- 
ring of any such charges unjustly. 

417. The principal effect of this twisting of 
the law was, that, whether the words published 
were true or false the crime of publishing was 
the same ; because, whether true or false, they 
tended to a breach of the peace! Nay, there 
was a Boroughmonger Judge in England, who 
had laid it down as law, that the trv£r the 
words were, the more criminal was the libel ; 
because, said he, a breach of the peace was 
more likely to be produced by telling truth of 
a villain, than by ieWm^ falsehood of a virtuous 
man. In point of fact, this was true enough, to 
be sure ; but what an infamous doctrine ! What 
a base, what an unjust mind must this man 
have had ! 



CHAP. XIV.j AND RELIGION. 401 

418. The State of New York, ashamed that 
there should any longer be room for such 
miserable quibbling ,' ashamed to leave the 
Liberty of the Press exposed to the changes 
and chances of a doctrine so hostile to common 
sense as well as to every principle of freedom, 
passed an Act, which makes the truth of any 
publication a justification of it, provided the 
publisher can shew, that the publication was 
made with good motives and justifiable ends ; 
and who can possible/ publish truth without 
being able to shew good motives and justifiable 
ends? To expose and censure tyranny, profli- 
gacy, fraud, hypocrisy, debauchery, drunken- 
ness ; indeed, all sorts of wickedness and folly ; 
and to do this in the words of truth, must tend, 
cannot fail to tend, to check wickedness and 
folly, and to strengthen and promote virtue and 
wisdom ; and these, and these only, are the uses 
of the press. I know it has been said, for 1 
have heard it said, that this is going too far ; 
that it would tend to lay open the private affairs 
of families. And what then ? Wickedness and 
folly should meet their due measure of censure, 
or ridicule, be they found where they may. If 
the faults of private persons were too trifling to 
deserve public notice, the mention of them 
would give the parties no pain, and the pub- 
lisher would be despised for his tittle-tattle; 

2 F 2 



\ 



402 GOTERNMENT, LAWS, [PART II. 

that is all. And, if they were of a nature so 
grave as for the exposure of them to give the 
parties pain, the exposure vy^ould be useful, as a 
"warning to others. 

419. Amongst the persons whom 1 have 
heard express a wish, to see the press what 
they called /ree, and at the same time to extend 
the restraints on it, with regard to persons in 
their private life, beyond the ohligalion of adhe- 
rence to truth, I have never, that I know of, 
met with one, who had not some powerful 
motive of his own for the wish, and who did not 
feel that he had some vulnerable part about 
himself. The common observation of these 
persons, is, that puhlic men are fair game. Why 
public men only? Is it because their wicked- 
ness and folly affect the public? And, how 
long has it been, 1 should be glad to know, 
since bad example in private life has been 
thought of no consequence to the public? The 
press is called " the guardian of the public 
" morals;' but, if it is to meddle with none of 
the vices or follies of individuals in private life, 
how is it to act as the guardian of the morals of 
the whole community ? A press perfectly free, 
reaches these vices, which the laiv cannot reach 
without putting too much power into the hands 
of the magistrate. Extinguish the press, and 
you must let the magistrate into every private 



CHAP. XIV.] AND RELIGION. 403 

house. The experience of the world suggests 
this remark ; for, look where you will, you 
will see virtue in all the walks of life hand in 
hand with freedom of discussion, and vice hand 
in hand with censorships and other laws to 
cramp the press. England, once so free, so 
virtuous and so happy, has seen misery and 
crimes increase and the criminal laws multiply 
in the exact proportion of the increase of the 
restraints on the press and of the increase of 
the severity in punishing what are called libels. 
And, if this had not taken place it would have 
been very wonderful. Men who have the hand- 
ling of the public money, and who know that 
the parliament is such as to be silencedj will be 
very apt to squander that money; this squan- 
dering causes heavy taxes ; these produce misery 
amongst the greater number of the people ; this 
misery produces crimes; to check these new 
penal laws are passed. Thus it is in England, 
where new hanging places, new and enlarged 
jails, prisons on the water, new modes of trans- 
porting, a new species of peace officers, a new 
species of Justices of the Peace, troops em- 
ployed regularly in aid of the magistrate, and 
at last, spies and blood-money bands, all pro- 
claim a real revolution in the nature of the go- 
vernment. If the press had continued free^ 
these sad effects of a waste of the public money 



404 GOVERNMENT, LAWS, [PART II. 

never could have taken place ; for, the wasters 
of that money would have been so exposed as 
to be unable to live under the odium which the 
exposure would have occasioned; and, if the 
parhament had not checked the waste and pu" 
nished the wasters, the public indignation would 
have destroyed the parliament. But, with a 
muzzled press, the wasters proceeded with the 
consciousness of impunity. Say to any individual 
man when he is 20 years of age : " You shall 
" do just what you please with all the money of 
** other people that you can, by any means, all 
" your life long, get into your hands, and no one 
*' shall ever be permitted to make you account- 
" able, or even to write or speak a word against 
" you for any act of fraud, oppression, or waste." 
Should you expect such an individual to act 
honestly and wisely ? Yet, this, in fact, is what 
a Boroughmonger Parliament and the new 
Law of Libel say to every set of Ministers. 

420. Before 1 quit this subject of Libel, let 
me observe, however, that no juryman, even as 
the law now stands in England, is in conscience 
bound to find any man guilty on a charge of 
criminal libel, unless the evidence prove that the 
pretended libeller has been actuated by an evil 
motive, and unless it be also proved hy evidence, 
that his words, spoken or written, were scanda- 
lous and malicious. Unless these things be 



CHAP. XIV.] AND RELIGION. 405 

clearly proved by evidence^ the juryman, who 
finds a man guilty, is a base, perjured villain; 
and ought to be punished as such. 

421. The State of Connecticut, in her new 
Constitution, before mentioned, has put this 
matter of libel on the true footing; namely; 
" In all prosecutions and indictments for libel 
*' the TRUTH may be given in evidence, and the 
*' Jury shall have the right to determine the law 
" and the facts T Thus, then, common sense 
has, at last, got the better ; and TRUTH can, 
in this State, at least, in no case, be a legal 
crime. But, indeed, the press has NOW no 
restraint in America, other than that imposed 
by TRUTH. Men publish what they please, 
so long as they do not ^\i\A\^h falsehoods ; and, 
even in such cases, they are generally punished 
by the public contempt. The press is, there- 
fore, takevi altogether y what the magistrate always 
ought to be : " « terror to evil doers, and a re- 
" ward to those who do well'' But, it is not 
the name of REPUBLIC that secures these, 
or any other of the blessings of freedom. As 
gross acts of tyranny may be committed, and 
as base corruption practised, under that name 
as under the name of absolute monarchy. And, 
it becomes the people of America to guard 
their minds against ever being, in any case, 
amused with names. It is the fair representation 



406 GOVERNMENT, LAWS, [PART II. 

of the people that is the cause of all the good ; 
and, if this be obtained, I, for my part, will 
never quarrel with any body about names. 

422. Taxes and Priests; for these always 
lay on heavily together. On the subject of 
taxes, I have, perhaps, spoken sufficiently clear 
before; but, it is a great subject. I will, on 
these subjects, address myself more imme- 
diately to my old neighbours of JBotley, and 
endeavour to make them understand, what 
America is as to taxes and priests. 

423. Worried, my old neighbours, as you are 
by tax-gatherers of all descriptions from the 
County-Collector, who rides in his coach and 
four down to the petty Window-Peeper, the 
little miserable spy, who is constantly on the 
look out for you, as if he were a thief-catcher 
and you were thieves ; devoured as you are 
by these vermin, big and little, you will with 
difficulty form an idea of the state of America 
in this respect. \t is a state of such blessed- 
ness, when compared with the state of things in 
England, that I despair of being able to make 
you fully comprehend what it is. Here a man 
may make new windows, or shut up old win- 
dows, as often as he pleases, without being 
compelled under a penalty to give notice to 
some insolent tax-gathering spy. Here he may 
keep as many horses as he likes, he may ride 



CHAP. XIV.] AND RELIGION. 407 

them or drive them at his pleasure, he may sell 
them or keep them, he may lend them or breed 
from them ; he may, as far as their nature 
allows, do the same with regard to his dogs; 
he may employ his servants in his house, in his 
stables, in his garden, or in his fields, just as 
he pleases ; he may, if he be foolish enough, 
have armorial bearings on his carriage, his 
watch-seals, on his plate, and, if he likes, on 
his very buckets and porridge pots ; he may 
write his receipts, his bills, his leases, his bonds, 
and deeds upon unstamped paper; his wife and 
daughters may wear French gloves and Lace 
and French and India silks ; he may purchase 
or sell lands and may sue at law for his rights : 
and all these, and a hundred other things, with- 
out any dread of the interloping and insolent 
interference of a tax-gatherer or spy of any de- 
scription. Lastly, when he dies, he can be- 
queath his money and goods and houses and 
lands to whomsoever he pleases ; and he can 
close his eyes without curses in his heart against 
a rapacious band of placemen, pensioners, gran- 
tees, sinecure holders, staff-officers, borough- 
jobbers, and blood-money spies, who stand 
ready to take from his friends, his relations, his 
widows and his children, a large part of what 
he leaves, under the name of a tax upon lega- 
cies. 



408 GOVERNMENT, LAWS, [pART II. 

424. But, you will ask, " are there no taxes 
" in America?" Yes; and taxes, or public con- 
tributions of some sort, there must be in every 
civilized state ; otherwise government could not 
exist, and without government there could be 
no security for property or persons. The taxes 
in America consist principally of custom duties 
imposed on goods imported into the country. 
During the late war, there were taxes on several 
things in the country; but, they were taken off 
at the peace. In the cities and large towns, 
where paving and lamps and drains and scaven- 
gers are necessary, there are, of course, direct 
contributions to defray the expence of these. 
There are also, of course, county rates and road 
rates. But, as the money thus raised is em- 
ployed for the immediate benefit of those who 
pay, and is expended amongst themselves and 
under their own immediate inspection, it does 
not partake of the nature of a tax. The taxes 
or duties, on goods imported, yield a great sum 
of money ; and, owing to the persons employed 
in the collection being appointed for their in- 
tegrity and ability, and not on account of their 
connection with any set of bribing and corrupt 
boroughmongers, the whole of the money thus 
collected is fairly applied to the public use, and 
is amply sufficient for all the purposes of go- 
vernment. The army, if it can be so called, 



CHAP. XIV.] AND RELIGION. 409 

costs but a mere trifle. It consists of a few 
men, who are absolutely necessary to keep 
forts from crumbling down, and guns from rot- 
ting with rust. The navy is an object of care, 
and its support and increase a cause of consi- 
derable expence. But the government, relying 
on the good sense and valour of a people, who 
must hate or disregard themselves before they 
can hate or disregard that which so manifestly 
promotes their own happiness, has no need to 
expend much on any species of warlike prepa- 
rations. The government could not stand a 
week, if it were hated by the people ; nor, in- 
deed, ought it to stand an hour. It has the 
hearts of the people with it, and, therefore, it 
need expend nothing in hlood-money^ or in se- 
cret services of any kind. Hence the cheapness 
of this government ; hence the small amount of 
the taxes ; hence the ease and happiness of the 
People. 

425. Great as the distance between you and 
me is, my old neighbours, 1 very often think 
of you ; and especially when 1 buy salty which 
our neighbour Warner used to sell us for 19*. 
a bushel, and which I buy here for 2^. Qd. 
This salt is made, you know, down somewhere 
by Hambel. This very salt; when brought 
here from England, has all the charges of 
freight, insurance, wharfage, storage, to pay. 



410 GOVERNMENT, LAWS, [PART II. 

It pays besides, one third of its value in duty 
to the American Government before it be landed 
here. Then, you will observe, there is the 
profit of the American Salt Merchant, and then 
that of the shop-keeper who sells me the salt. 
And, after all this, J buy that very Hampshire 
salt for 2*. Qd. a bushel, English measure. 
What a government, then, must that of the 
Boroughmongers be! The salt is a gift of God. 
Jt is thrown on the shore. And yet, these ty- 
rants will not suffer us to use it, until we have 
paid them \6s. a bushel for liberty to use it. 
They will not suffer us to use the salt, which 
God has sent us, until we have given them 15*. 
a bushel for them to bestow on themselves, on 
their families and dependants, in the payment 
of the interest of the Debt, which they have 
contracted, and in paying those, whom they 
hire to shoot at us. Yes ; England is a fine 
country ; it is a glorious country ; it contains 
an ingenious, industrious, a brave and warm- 
hearted people; but, it is now disgraced and 
enslaved : it is trodden down by these tyrants ; 
and we must free it. We cannot, and we will 
not die their slaves. 

426. Salt is not the only one of the English 
articles that we buy cheaper here than in Eng- 
land. Glass, for instance, we buy for half the 
price that you buy it. The reason is, that you 



CHAP. XIV.] AND RELIGION. 411 

are compelled to pay a heavy tax, which is not 
paid by us for that same glass. It is the same 
as to almost every thing that comes from Eng- 
land. You are compelled to pay the Borough- 
mongers a heavy tax on your candles and soap. 
You dare not make candles and soap, though 
you have the fat and the ashes in abundance. If 
you attempt to do this, you are taken up and 
imprisoned ; and, if you resist, soldiers are 
brought to shoot you. This is freedom, is it? 
Now, we, here, make our own candles and 
soap. Farmers sometimes sell soap and can- 
dles ; but they never buy any. A labouring 
man, or a mechanic, buys a sheep now and 
then. Three or four days' works will buy a 
labourer a sheep to weigh sixty pounds, with 
seven or eight pounds of loose fat. The meat 
keeps very well, in winter, for a long time. 
The wool makes stockings. And the loose fat 
is made into candles and soap. The year be- 
fore I left Hampshire, a poor woman at Holly 
Hill had dipped some rushes in grease to use 
instead of candles. An Exciseman found it 
out ; went and ransacked her house ; and told 
her, that, if the rushes had had another dip, 
they would have been candles, and she must 
have gone to jail ! Why, my friends, if such a 
thing were told here, nobody would believe it. 
The Americans could not bring their minds to 



412 GOVERNMENT, LAWS, [PART II. 

believe, that Englishmen would submit to such 
atrocious, such degrading tyranny. 

427. J have had living with me an English- 
man, who smokes tobacco ; and he tells me, that 
he can buy as much tobacco here for three cents; 
that is, about three English half-pence, as he 
could buy in England for three shillings. The 
leather has no tax on it here ; so that, though the 
shoe-maker is paid a high price for his labour, 
the labouring man gets his shoes very cheap. In 
short, there is no excise here; no property tax; 
no assessed taxes. We have no such men here 
as Chiddel and Billy Tovery to come and take 
our money from us. No window peepers. No 
spies to keep a look-out as to our carriages 
and horses and dogs. Our dogs that came 
from Botley now run about free from the spy- 
ing of tax-gatherers. We may wear hair-pow- 
der if we like without paying for it, and a boy 
in our houses may whet our knives without 
our paying two pounds a year for it. 

428. But, then, we have not the honour of 
being covered over with the dust, kicked up 
by the horses and raised by the carriage- wheels 
of such men as Old George Rose and Old 
Garnier, each of whom has pocketted more 
than three hundred thousand pounds of the pub- 
lic, that is to say, the people's, money. Therti^ 
are no such men here. Those who receive 



CHAP. XIV.] AND RELIGION. 413 

public money here, do something for it. They 
earn it. They are no richer than other people. 
The Judges here are plain-dressed men. They 
go about with no sort of parade. They are 
dressed, on the Bench, like other men. The 
lawyers the same. Here are no black gowns 
and scarlet gowns and big foolish-looking wigs. 
Yet, in the whole world, there is not so well- 
behaved, so orderly, so steady a people; a 
people so obedient to the law. But, it is the 
laio only that they will botv to. They will 
bow to nothing else. And, they bow with re- 
verence to the law, because they know it to 
be just, and because it is made by men, whom 
they have all had a hand in choosing. 

429. And, then, think of the tithes ! I have 
talked to several farmers here about the tithes 
in England ; and, they laugh. They some- 
times almost make me angry ; for they seem, 
at last, not to believe what I say, when I tell 
them, that the English farmer gives, and is 
compelled to give, the Parson a tenth part of 
his whole crop and of his fruit and milk and 
eggs and calves and lambs and pigs and wool 
and honey. They cannot believe this. They 
treat it as a sort of romance. I sometimes al- 
most wish them to be farmers in England. I 
said to a neighbour the other day, in half an- 
ger : " I wish your farm were at Botley. There 



414 GOVERNMENT, LAWS, [PART II. 

" is a fellow there, who would soon let you 
*' know, that your fine apple-trees do not belong 
" to you. He would have his nose in your 
" sheep-fold, your calf-pens, your milk-pail, 
" your sow's-bed, if not in the sow herself. 
" Your daughters would have no occasion to 
" hunt out the hen's nests : he would do that 
" for them." And then I gave him a proof of 
an English Parson's vigilance by telling him 
the story of Baker's peeping out the name, 
marked on the sack, which the old woman was 
wearing as a petticoat. To another of ray 
neighbours, who is very proud of the circum- 
stance of his grandfather being an Englishman, 
as, indeed, most of the Americans are, who 
are descended from Englishmen : to this neigh- 
bour 1 was telling the story about the poor 
woman at Holly Hill, who had nearly dipped 
her rushes once too often. He is a very grave 
and religious man. He looked very seriously 
at me, and said, that falsehood was falsehood, 
whether in jest or earnest. But, when I in- 
vited him to come to my house, and told him, 
that 1 would show him the acts which the Bo- 
rough-men had made to put us in jail if we 
made our own soap and candles, he was quite 
astonished. " What! said he, and is Old Eng- 
" land really come to this! Is the land of our 
'* forefathers brought to this state of abject 



CHAP. XIV.] AND RELIGION. 415 

" slavery ! Well, Mr. Cobbett, I confess, thai 
•' I was always for king George, during our 
" Revolutionary war; but, I believe, all was 
'• for the best; for, if I had had my wishes, he 
** might have treated us as he now treats the 
** people of England." " He F said I. " It is 
" not he; he, poor man, does nothing to the 
" people, and never has done any thing to the 
" people. He has no power more than you 
*' have. None of his family have any. All 
" put together, they have not a thousandth part 
" so much as I have ; for I am able, though 
" here, to annoy our tyrants, to make them 
*' less easy than they would be; but, these 
" tyrants care no more for the Royal Family 
" than they do for so many posts or logs of 
" wood." And then I explained to him who 
and what the Boroughmongers were, and how 
they oppressed us and the king too. I told 
him how they disposed of the Church livings, 
and, in short, explained to him all their arts 
and all their cruelties. He was exceedingly 
shocked ; but was glad, at any rate to know 
the truth. 

430. When I was, last winter, in the neigh- 
bourhood of Harrisburgh in Pennsylvania, 1 
saw some hop-planters. They grow prodigious 
quantities of hops. They are obliged to put 
their hills so wide a part, that they can have 

2 G 



416 GOVERNMENT, LAWS, [PART II. 

only four hundred hills upon an acre; and yet 
they grow three thousand pounds of hops upon 
an acre, with no manure and with once plough- 
ing in the year. When I told them about the 
price of hops in England and about the diffi- 
culty of raising them, they were greatly sur- 
prised; but, what was their astonishment, when 
I told them about the hop-poles of Chalcraft 
at Curbridge ! The hop is naturally a weed in 
England as well as in America. Two or three 
vines had come up out of Chalcraft's gardefj 
hedge, a few years ago. Chalcraft ^^ut poles to 
them ; and, there might be a pound or two of hops 
on these poles. Just before the time of gather- 
ing, one of the spies called Excisemen called on 
Chalcraft and asked him why he did not enter 
his hops. Chalcraft did not understand ; but, 
answered, he meant to taTce them in shortly, 
though he did not think they were yet quite 
ripe. '' Aye," said the Exciseman, *' but I 
*' mean, when do you mean to enter them at 
"the excise office?" Chalcraft did not know 
(not living in a hop-country,) that he had already 
incurred a penaltij for not reporting to the ty- 
rants that he had hops growing in his garden 
hedge! He did not know, that he could not 
gather them and put them by without giving 
notice, under a penalty of fifty pounds. He did 
not know, that he could not receive this little gift 



CHAP. XIV.] AND RELIGION. 417 

of God without paying money to the Borough- 
mongers in the shape of tax; and, to the Parson 
in the shape of tithe, or, to give a tenth of the 
hops to the Parson, and not dare pick a single 
hop till he had sent notice to the Parson ! What 
he did, upon this occasion, T have forgotten; 
but, it is likely that he let the hops stand and 
rot, or cut them down and flung them away 
as weeds. Now, poor men in England are 
told to be content with rags and hungry bellies, 
for that is their lot; that " it has pleased Di- 
•* vine Providence to place them in that state." 
But, here is a striking instance of the falsehood 
and blasphemy of this Doctrine; for, provi- 
dence had sent Chalcraft the hops, and he had 
put poles to them. Providence had brought 
the hops to perfection ; but then came the Bo- 
roughmongers and the Parson to take from 
this poor man this boon of a benevolent Maker. 
What, did God order a tax with all its vexa- 
tious regulations, to be imposed upon what he 
had freely given to this poor man? Did God 
ordain that, in addition to this tax, a tenth 
should be yielded to a Parson, who had so- 
lemnly vowed at his ordination, that he believed 
himself called, not by the love of tithes, but by 
" the Holy Ghost, to take on him the cure of 
" souls," and to " bring stray sheep ijito the 
''fold of the Lwdr Did God ordain these 
2g 2 



418 GOVERNMENT, LAWS, [PART II. 

things? Had \i pleased God to do this? What 
impunity, what blasphemy, then, to ascribe to 
Providence the manifold sufferings occasioned 
by the Boroughmongers' taxes and Parson's 
tithes ! 

431. But, my Botley neighbours, you will 
exclaim, *' No tithes! Why, then, there can 
" be no Churches ?Lnd no Parsons! The people 
" must know nothing of God or Devil ; and 
"must all go to hell!" By no means, my 
friends. Here are plenty of Churches. No less 
than three Episcopal (or English) Churches; 
three Presbyterian Churches ; three Lutheran 
Churches ; one or two Quaker Meeting-houses; 
and two Methodist Places ; all within six miles 
of the spot where I am sitting. And, these, 
mind, not poor shabby Churches ; but each of 
them larger and better built and far handsomer 
than Botley Church, with the Church-yards 
all kept in the neatest order, with a head-stone 
to almost every grave. As to the Quaker 
Meeting-house, it would take Botley Church 
into its belly, if you were first to knock off the 
steeple. 

432. Oh, no ! Tithes are not necessary to 
promote religion. When our Parsons, such 
as Baker, talk about religion, or the church, 
being in danger; they mean, that the tithes are 
in danger. They mean, that they are in dan- 



CHAP. XIV.] AND RELIGION. 419 

ger of being compelled to work for their bread. 
This is what they mean. You remember, that, 
at our last meeting at Winchester, they pro- 
posed for us to tell the Prince Regent, that 
we would support the Church. I moved, to 
leave out the word church, and insert the word 
tithes; for, as there were many presbyterians 
and other dissenters present, they could not, 
with clear consciences, pledge themselves to 
support the church. This made them furious. 
It was lifting up the mask; and the parsons 
were enraged beyond measure. 

433. Oh, no! Tithes do not mean religion. 
Religion means a reverence for God. And, 
what has this to do with tithes ? Why cannot 
you reverence God, without Baker and his 
wife and children eating up a tenth part of the 
corn and milk and eggs and lambs and pigs 
and calves that are produced in Botley parish ? 
The Parsons, in this country, are supported 
by those who choose to employ them. A man 
belongs to what congregation he pleases. He 
pays what is required by the rules of the con- 
gregation. And, if he think that it is not ne- 
cessary for him to belong to any congregation, 
he pays nothing at all. And, the consequence 
is, that all is harmony and good neighbour- 
hood. Here are not dis])utes about religion ; 
or, if there be, they make no noise. Here is 



420 GOVERNMENT, LAWS, [PART II. 

no ill-will on this account. A man is never 
asked what religion he is of, or whether he be of 
any religion at all. It is a matter that nobody 
interferes in. What need, tlierefore, is there 
of an established Church. What need is there 
of tithes? And, why should not that species 
of property be taken ^or public use? That is 
to say, as far as it has any thing to do with 
religion ? I know very well, that tithes do not 
operate as many people pretend ; I know that 
those who complain most about them have the 
least right to complain ; but, for my present 
purpose, it is sufficient to shew, that they have 
nothing to do with religion. 

434. If, indeed, the Americans were wicked, 
disorderly, criminal people, and, of course, a 
miserable and foolish people: then we might 
doubt upon the subject: then we might pos* 
sibly suppose, that their wickedness and mi- 
sery arose, in some degree, at least, from the 
want of tithes. But, the contrary is the fact. 
They are the most orderly, sensible, and least 
criminal people in the whole world. A com- 
mon labouring man has the feelings of a man 
of honour; he never thinks of violating the 
laws ; he crawls to nobody ; he will call every 
man Sir^ but he will call no man master. When 
he utters words of respect towards any one, 
they do not proceed from fear or hope, but 



CHAP. XIV.] AND RELIGION. 421 

from civility and sincerity. A native American 
labourer is never rude towards his employer, 
but he is never cringing. 

435. However, the best proof of the inutility 
of an established Church is the absence of 
crimes in this country, compared to the state 
of England in that respect. There have not 
been three felonies tried in this country since 
I arrived in it. The Court-house is at two 
miles from me. An Irishman was tried for 
forgery in the summer of 1817, and the whole 
country was alive to go and witness the novelty. 
I have not heard of a man being hanged in the 
whole of the United States since my arrival. 
The Boroughmongers, in answer to state- 
ments like these, say that this is a thinly in- 
habited country. This very country is more 
thickly settled than Hampshire. The adjoining 
country, towards the city of New York is 
much more thickly settled than Hampshire. 
New York itself and its immediate environs 
contain nearly two hundred thousand inhabi- 
tants, and after London, is, perhaps, the first 
commercial and maritime city in the world. 
Thousands of sailors, ship-carpenters, dock- 
yard people, dray-men, boat-men, crowd its 
wharfs and quays. Yet, never do we hear of 
hanging; scarcely ever of a robbery; men go 
to bed with scarcely locking their doors ; and 



4*22 GOVERNMENT, LAWS, [PART 11. 

never is there seen in the streets what is 
called in England, a girl of the town; and, 
what is still more, never is there seen in those 
streets a beggar, f wish you, my old neigh- 
bours, could see this city of New York. Ports- 
mouth and Gosport, taken together, are mise- 
rable holes compared to it. Man's imagination 
can fancy nothing so beautiful as its bay and 
port, from which two immense rivers svveep up 
on the sides of the point of land, on which the 
city is. These rivers are continually covered 
with vessels of various sizes bringing the pro- 
duce of the land, while the bay is scarcely less 
covered with ships going in and out from alj 
parts of the world. The city itself is a scene 
of opulence and industry : riches without inso- 
lence, and labour without grudging. 

436. What Englishman can contemplate this 
brilliant sight without feelingsomelittlepride that 
this city bears an English name? But, thoughts 
of more importance ought to fill his mind. He 
ought to contrast the ease, the happiness, the 
absence of crime which prevail here with the 
inceijsant anxieties, the miseries and murderous 
works in England. In his search after causes 
he will find them no where but in the govern- 
ment: and, as to an established church, if he 
find no sound argument to prove it to be an 
evil ; at the very least he must conclude, that 



CHAP. XIV.] AND RELIGION. 423 

it is not a good; and, of course that property 
to the amount of five millions a year is very 
unjustly as well as unwisely bestowed on its 
clergy. 

- 437. Nor, let it be said, that the people here 
are of a better natural disposition than the 
people of England are. How can it be? They 
are, the far greater part of them, the immediate 
descendants of Englishmen, Irishmen, and 
Scotsmen. Nay, in the city of New York it is 
supposed, that a full half of the labour is per- 
formed by natives of Ireland, while men of that 
Island make a great figure in trade, at the bar, 
and in all the various pursuits of life. They 
have their Romish Chapels there in great bril- 
liancy ; and they enjoy " Catholic Emancipa- 
" tion" without any petitioning or any wrang- 
ling. In short, blindfold an Englishman and 
convey him to New York, unbind his eyes, and 
he will think himself in an English city. The 
same sort of streets ; shops precisely the same ; 
the same beautiful and modest women crowd- 
ing in and out of them ; the same play-houses ; 
the same men, same dress, same language : he 
will miss by day only the nobility and the beg- 
gars, and by night only the street-walkers and 
pickpockets. These are to be found only 
where there is an established clergy, upheld by 



424 GOVERNMENT, LAWS, [PART II. 

what is called the state, and which word means, 
in England, the Boroughmongers. 

438. Away, then, my friends, with all cant 
about the church, and the church being in dan- 
ger. If the church, that is to say, the tithes, 
were completely abolished; if they, and all the 
immense property of the church, were taken 
and applied to public use, there would not be 
a sermon or a prayer the less. Not only the 
Bible but the very Prayer-book is in use here 
as much as in England, and, I believe, a great 
deal more. Why give the five millions a year 
then, to Parsons and their wives and children? 
Since the English, Irish, and Scotch, are so 
good, so religious, and so moral here without 
glebes and tithes; why not use these glebes 
and tithes for other purposes seeing they are 
possessions which can legally be disposed of in 
another manner ? 

439. But, the fact is, that it is the circum- 
stance of the church being established by law 
that makes it of little use as to real religion, 
and as to morals, as far as they be connected 
with religion. Because, as we shall presently 
see, this establishment forces upon the people, 
parsons whom they cannot respect, and whom 
indeed, they must despise; and, it is easy to 
conceive, that the moral precepts of those, whom 



CHAP. XIV.] AND RELIGION. 425 

we despise on account of their immorality, we 
shall never much attend to, even supposing the 
precepts themselves to be good. If a precept 
be self-evidently good ; if it be an obvious duty 
which the parson inculcates, the inculcation is 
useless to us, because, whenever it is wanted 
to guide us, it will occur without the suggestion 
of any one; and, if the precept be not setf- 
evidently good, we shall never receive it as 
such from the lips of a man, whose character 
and life tell us we ought to suspect the truth of 
every thing he utters. When the matters as to 
which we are receiving instructions are, in their 
nature, wholly dissimilar to those as to which 
we have witnessed the conduct of the teacher, 
we may reasonably, in listening to the precept, 
disregard that conduct. Because, for instance, 
a man, though a very indifferent Christian, may 
be a most able soldier, seaman, physician, law- 
yer, or almost any thing else; and what is more, 
may be honest and zealous in the discharge of 
his duty in any of these several capacities. 
But, when the conduct, which we have ob- 
served in the teacher belongs to the same de- 
partment of life as the precept which he is deli- 
vering, if the one differ from the other we can- 
not believe the teacher to be sincere, unless he, 
while he enforces his precept upon us, acknow 
ledge his own misconduct. Suppose me, for 



426 GOVERNMENT, LAWS, [PART II. 

instance, to be a great liar, as great a liar, if 
possible, as Stewart of the Courier, who 
has said that 1 have been " fined 700 dollars 
'* for writing against the American government," 
though I never was prosecuted in America in 
all my life. Suppose me to be as great a liar 
as Stewart, and I were to be told by a parson, 
whom 1 knew to be as great a liar as myself, 
that I should certainly go to hell if 1 did not 
leave off lying. Would his words have any 
effect upon me? No: because I should con- 
clude, that if he thought what he said, he would 
not be such a liar himself. I should rely upon 
the parson generally, or J should not. If I did, 
1 should think myself safe until I out-lied him ; 
and, if I did not rely on him generally, of what 
use would he be to me ? 

440. Thus, then, if men be sincere about re-r 
ligion ; if it be not all a mere matter of form, it 
must always be of the greatest consequence, 
that the example of the teacher correspond with 
his teaching. And the most likely way to in- 
sure this, is to manage things so that he may in 
the first place, be selected by the people, and, 
in the second place, have no rewards in view 
other than those which are to be given in con- 
sequence of his perseverance in a line of good 
conduct. 

441. And thus it is with the clergy in Ame- 



GHAP. XIV.] AND RELIGION. 427 

rica, who are duly and amply rewarded for 
their diligence, and very justly respected for 
the piety, talent, and zeal which they discover ; 
but, who have no tenure of their places other 
than that of the will of the congregation. Hence 
it rarely indeed happens, that there is seen 
amongst them an impious, an immoral, or a 
despicable man. Whether the teaching of even 
these Reverend persons have any very great 
effect in producing virtue and happiness amongst 
men is a question upon which men may, with- 
out deserving to be burnt alive, take the liberty 
to differ; especially since the world has con- 
stantly before its eyes a society, who excel in 
all the Christian virtues, who practise that 
simplicity which others teach, who, in the great 
work of charity, really and truly hide from the 
left hand that which the right hand doeth ; and 
who know nothing of Bishop, Priest, Deacon, 
or Teacher of any description. Yes, since we 
have the Quakers constantly before our eyes, 
we may, without deserving to be burnt alive, 
question the utility of paying any parsons or 
religious teachers at all. But, the worst of it 
is, we are apt to confound things ; as we have, 
by a figure of speech, got to call a building a 
church, when a church really means a body of 
people; so we are apt to look upon the priest 
as being religious, and especially when we call 



428 GOVERNMENT, LAWS, [PART II. 

him the reverend; and, it often sadly occurs 
that no two things can be wider from each other 
in this quality. Some writer has said, that he 
wouhl willingly leave to the clergy every thing 
above the tops of the chimneys; which, perhaps, 
was making their possessions rather too ethe- 
real ; but, since our law calls them " spiritual 
*' persons;' since they profess, that "their king- 
** dom is not of this world," and, since those of 
our church have solemnly declared, that they 
believed themselves to be called to the ministry 
" by the Holy Ghost :" it is, I think, a little out 
of character for them to come poking and 
grunting and grumbling about after our eggs, 
potatoes, and sucking pigs. 

442. However, upon the general question of 
the utility or non-utility of paid religious 
teachers, let men decide for themselves ; but if 
teachers be to be paid, it seems a clear point, 
in my mind, that they should be paid upon the 
American plan : and this, I think, must be ob- 
vious to every one, who is able to take a view 
of the English Clergy. They are appointed by 
the absolute will of the Boroughmongers. They 
care nothing for the good will of their congre- 
gation or parish. It is as good to them to be 
hated by their parishioners as to be loved by 
them. They very frequently never even see their 
parish more than once io four or five years. 



CHAP. XIV.] AND RELIGION. 429 

They solemnly declare at the altar, that they 
believe themselves called by the Holy Ghost to 
take on them the cure of souls ; they get pos- 
session of a living; and leave the cure of souls 
to some curate, to whom they give a tenth part, 
perhaps, of the income. Many of them have 
two livingSy at thirty miles distance from each 
other. They live at neither very frequently ; 
and, when they do they only add to the annoy- 
ance which their curate gives. 

443. As to their general character and con- 
duct; in what public transaction of pre-eminent 
scandal have they not taken a part? Who were 
found most intimate with Mrs. Clarke, and 
most busy in her commission dealing affairs ? 
Clergymen of the Church of England. This is 
notorious. Miss Tocker tells of the ttvo livings 
given to Parson Gurney for his electioneering 
works in Cornwall. And, indeed all over the 
country, they have been and are the prime agents 
of the Boroughmongers. Recently they have 
been the tools of Sidmouth for gagging the press 
in the country parts of the kingdom. Poivis and 
Guillim were the prosecutors of Messrs. Pilling 
and Melor ; and for which if they be not made 
to answer, the kingdom ought to be destroyed. 
They are the leading men at Pitt Clubs all over 
the country ; they were the foremost to defend 
the peculation of Melville. In short, there 



430 GOVERNMENT, LAWS, [PART II. 

has been no public man guilty of an infamous 
act, of whom they have not taken the part; and 
no act of tyranny of which they have not been 
the eulogists and the principal instrument. 

444. But, M'hy do 1 attempt to describe 
Parsons to Hampshire men? You saw them 
all assembled in grand cohort the last time that 
I saw any of you. You saw them at Win- 
chester, when they brought forward their lying 
address to the Regent. You saw them on that 
day, and so did I ; and in them 1 saw a band 
of more complete blackguards than I ever be- 
fore saw in all my life. I then saw Parson 
Baines of Exton, standing up in a chair and 
actually spitting in Lord Cochrane's poll, while 
the latter was bending his neck out to speak. 
Lord Cochrane looked round and said, " B. 
" G — Sir, if you do that again I'll knock you 
" down." " You be d— d," said Baines, " Til 
** spit where I like." Lord Cochrane struck 
9,t him; Baines jumped down, put his two hands 
to his mouth in a huntsman-like way, and cried 
" whoop! whoop!" till he was actually black 
in the face. One of them trampled upon my 
heel as I was speaking. 1 looked round, and 
begged him to leave off. *' You be d — d," said 
he, " you be d — d, Jacobin." He then tried 
to press on me, to stifle my voice, till 1 clapped 
my elbow into his ribs and made " the spiritual 



CHAP. XIV.] AND RELIGION. 431 

" person" hiccup. There were about twenty 
of them mounted upon a large table in the 
room; and there they jumped, stamped, hal- 
looed, roared, thumped with canes and um- 
brellas, squalled, whistled, and made all sorts 
of noises. As Lord Cochrane and I were going- 
back to London, he said that, so many years 
as he had been in the navy, he never had seen 
a band of such complete blackguards. And J 
said the same for the army. And, I declare, 
that, in the whole course of my life, I have 
never seen any men, drunk or sober, behave in 
so infamous a manner. Mr. Phillips, of Eling, 
(now Doctor Phillips) whom 1 saw standing in 
the room, I tapped on the shoulder, and asked, 
whether he was not ashamed. Mr. Lee, of the 
College ; Mr. Ogle, of Bishop's Waltham ; and 
Doctor Hill, of Southampton: these were 
exceptions. Perhaps there might be some 
others ; but the 7nass was the most audacious, 
foul, and atrocious body of men I ever saw. 
We had done nothing to offend them. We had 
proposed nothing to offend them in the smallest 
degree. But, they were afraid of our speeches : 
they knew they could not answer us ; and 
they were resolved, that, if possible, we should 
not be heard. There was one parson, who 
iiad his mouth within a foot of Lord Coch- 
rane's ear, all the time his Lordship was speak- 

2 H 



432 GOVERNMENT, LAWS, [PART II. 

ing, and who kept on saying : '* You lie ! you 
*' lie! you lie! you lie!' as loud as he could 
utter the words. 

445. Baker, the Botley Parson, was ex- 
tremely busy. He acted the part of buffoon to 
LocKHART. He kept capering about behind 
him, and -jeally seemed like a merry andrew 
rather than a '* spiritual person'' 

446. Such is the character of the great body 
of Hampshire Parsons. I know of no body of 
men so despicable, and yet, what sums of pub- 
lic money do they swallow ! It now remains 
for me to speak more particularly of Baker, 
he who, for your sins I suppose, is fastened 
upon you as your Parson. But what I have 
to say of this man must be the subject of an- 
other Letter. That it should be the subject of 
any letter at all may well surprize all who 
know the man ; for not one creature knows him 
without despising him. But, it is not Baker, 
it is the scandalous priest, that I strike at. li 
is the impudent, profligate, hardened priest 
that I will hold up to public scorn. 

447. When 1 see the good and kind people 
here going to church to listen to some decent 
man of good moral character and of sober quiet 
life, 1 always think of you. You are just the 
same sort of people as they are here ; but, what 
a difference in the Clergyman ! What a differ- 



CHAP. XIV.] AND RELIGION. 433 

ence between the sober, sedate, friendly man 
who preaches to one of these congregations, 
and the greedy, chattering, lying, backbiting, 
mischief-makiiig, everlasting plague, that you 
go to hear, and are compelled to hear, or stay 
away from the church. Baker always puts m^ 
in mind of the Magpie. 

The Magpie, bird of chatt'ring fame. 
Whose tongue and hue bespeak his name ; 
The first a squalling clam'rous clack. 
The last made up of white and black ; 
Feeder alike on Jlesh and corn. 
Greedy alike at eve and morn ; 
Of all the birds the prying pest, 
Must needs be Parson o'er the rest. 

448. Thus T began a fable, when I lived at 
Botley. I have forgotten the rest of it. It will 
please you to hear that there are no Magpies in 
America ; but, it will please you still more to 
hear, that no men that resemble them are par- 
sons here. 1 have sometimes been half tempted 
to believe, that the Magpie first suggested to 
tyrants the idea of having a tithe-eating Clergy. 
The Magpie devours the corn and grain ; so 
does the Parson. The Magpie takes the wool 
from the sheep's backs; so does the Parson. 
The Magpie devours alike the young animals 
and the eggs ; so does the Parson. The Mag- 
pie's clack is everlastingly going; so is the 



434 GOVERNMENT, LAWS, &C. [PART II. 

Parson's. The Magpie repeats by rote words 
that are taught it; so does the Parson. The 
Magpie is always skipping and hopping and 
peeping into other's nests : so is the Parson. 
The Magpie's colour is partly black and partly 
white ; so is the Parson's. The Magpie's greedi- 
ness, impudence, and cruelty are proverbial ; so 
are those of the Parson. I was saying to a 
farmer the other day, that iftheBoroughraongers 
had a mind to ruin America, they would another 
time, send over five or six good large flocks of 
Magpies, instead of five or six of their armies ; 
but, upon second thought, they would do the 
thing far more effectually by sending over five 
or six flocks of their Parsons, and getting the 
people to receive them and cherish them as the 
bulwark of religion. 



END OF PART II. 



John M'Creery, Printer, Black Horse Court, Loudoa. 



A 

YEAR'S RESIDENCE 



IN THE 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



Treating of the Face of the Country, the Climate, the Soil, 
the Products, the Mode of Cultivating the Land, the Prices 
of Land, of Labour, of Food, of Raiment ; of the Expenses 
of Housekeeping, and of the usual manner of Living ; of 
the Manners, Customs, and Character of the People ; and 
of the Government, Laws, and Religion. 

IN THREE PARTS. 

By WILLIAM COBBETT. 
PART IIL 

Containing, — Mr. Hulme's Introduction to his Journal — 
Mr. Hulme's Journal, made during a Tour in the Western 
Countries of America, in which Tour he visited Mr. Birk- 
beck's Settlement— Mr. Cobbett's Letters to Mr. Birkbeck, 
remonstrating with that Gentleman on the numerous delu- 
sions, contained in his two publications, entitled " Notes on 
a Journey in America" and " Letters from Illinois" — Post- 
script, being the detail of an experiment made in the cultiT- 
vation of the Ruta Baga— Second Postscript, a Refutation 
of Fearon's Falsehoods. 



LONDON: 

PRINTED FOR SHERWOOD, NEELY, AND JONES, 
PATERNOSTER-ROW. 

1819. 



[enterelr at ^Jtattoners;' $)aUj 



John M'Creery, Printer, 
Black-Horse-Court, London. 



CONTENTS OF PART 111. 



Page 
Dedication . . . ; 439 

Preface 441 

Mr. Hulme's Introduction to his Journal ..... 443 

Mr Hulftie's Journal, made during a Tour in the Western i 

Countries of America, in which Tour he visited Mr. \ 

Birkbeck's Settlement 456 

Mr. Cobbett's Letters to Mr. Birkbeck, remonstrating 
with that Gentleman on the numerous delusions, con- 
tained in his two publications, entitled " Notes on a 
Journey in America" and "Letters from Illinois" . 520 

Postscript, being the detail of an experiment made in the 
cultivation of the Ruta Baga 594 

Second Postscript, a Refutation of Fearon's Falsehoods . 598 



439 

DEDICATION 
To TIMOTHY BROWN, Esq. 

OF PECKHAM LODGE, SURREY. 



North Hempstead, Long Island, 
10 Bee. 1818. 

My dear Sir, 

The little volume here presented to the 
public, consists, as you will perceive, for the 
greatet and most valuable part, of travelling 
notes, made by our friend Hulme, whom I had 
the honour to introduce to you in 1816, and 
with whom you were so much pleased. 

His activity, which nothing can benumb, 
his zeal against the twin monster, tyranny 
and priestcraft, w hich nothing can cool, and his 
desire to assist in providing a place of retreat 
for the oppressed, which nothing but success in 
the accomplishment can satisfy ; these have in- 
duced him to employ almost the whole of his 
time here in various ways all tending to the 
same point. 

The Boroughmongers have agents and spies 
all over the inhabited globe. Here they can- 
not sell blood: they can only collect informal 
tion and calumniate the people of both coun- 
tries. These vermin our friend Jirks out (as 
the Hampshire people call it); and they hate 
him as rats hate a terrier. 



440 DEDICATION. 

Amongst his other labours, he has perform- 
ed a very laborious journey to the Western 
Countries, and has been as far as the Colony of 
our friend Birkbeck. This journey has pro- 
duced a Journal; and this Journal, along 
with the rest of the volume, T dedicate to you 
in testimony of my constant remembrance of the 
many, many happy hours I have spent with you, 
and of the numerous acts of kindness, which I 
have received at your hands. You were one of 
those, who sought acquamtance with me, when 
I was shut up in a felon's jail for two years for 
having expressed my indignation at seeing Eng- 
lishmen flogged, in the heart of England, under 
a guard of German bayonets and sabres, and 
when I had on my head a thousand pounds fine 
and seven years'' recognizances. You, at the end 
of the two years, took me from the prison, in 
your carriage, home to your house. You and 
our kind friend, Walker, are, even yet, held in 
bonds for my good behaviour, the seven years 
not being expired. All these things are written 
in the very core of my heart ; and when J act as 
if J had forgotten any one of them, may no 
name on earth be so much detested and despised 
as that of 

Your faithful friend. 

And most obedient servant, 

Wm. cobbett. 



441 
PREFACE TO PART III. 

849. In giving an account of the United States 
of America, it would not have been proper to 
omit saying something of the Western Countries, 
that Newest of the New Worlds, to which so 
many thousands and hundreds of thousands 
are flocking, and towards which the writings 
of Mr. Birkbeck have, of late, drawn the point- 
ed attention of all those Englishmen, who, hav- 
ing something left to be robbed of, and wishing 
to preserve it, are looking towards America as 
a place of refuge from the Boroughmongers 
and the Holy Alliance, which latter, to make 
the compact complete, seems to want nothing 
but the accession of His Satanic Majesty. 

850. 1 could not go to the Western Coun- 
tries ; and, the accounts of others were seldom 
to be relied on ; because, scarcely any man 
goes thither without some degree of partiality, 
or comes back without being tainted with some 
little matter, at least, of self-interest. Yet, it 
was desirable to make an attempt, at least, 
towards settling the question : " Whether the 
" Atlantic, or the Western, Countries were the 
" best for English Farmers to settle in." There- 
fore, when Mr. Hulme proposed to make a 
Western Tour, I was very much pleased, see- 
ing that, of all the men I knew, he was the 



442 PREFACE TO PART III. 

most likely to bring us back an impartial ac- 
count of what he should see. His great know- 
ledge of farming as well as of manufacturing af- 
fairs ; his capacity of estimating local advan- 
tages and disadvantages; the natural turn of 
his mind for discovering the means of applying 
to the use of man all that is furnished by the 
earth, the air, and water; the patience and perse- 
verance with which he pursues all his inqui- 
ries ; the urbanity of his manners, which opens 
to him all the sources of information : his inflex- 
ible adherence to truth: all these marked him 
out as the man, on whom the public might 
safely rely. 

851. I, therefore, give his Journal, made 
during his tour. He offers no opinion as to 
the question above stated. That I shall do ; 
and, when the reader has gone through the 
Journal he will find my opinions as to that 
question, which opinions 1 have stated in a 
Letter, addressed to Mr. Birkbeck. 

852. The American reader will perceive, that 
this Letter is intended principally for the peru- 
sal oi Englishtnen; and, therefore, he must not 
be surprised if he find a little bickering in a 
group so much of z. family cast. 

Wm. cobbett. 

North Hempstead, 
lOth December, 1818. 



A 

YEAR'S RESIDENCE 

Sfc. 






INTRODUCTION TO THE JOURNAL. 

Philadelphia, 30th Sept. 1818. 

853. It seems necessary, by way of Intro- 
duction to the following Journal, to say some 
little matter respecting the author of it, and 
also respecting his motives for wishing it to be 
published. 

854. As to the first, 1 am an Englishman by 
birth and parentage ; and am of the county of 
Lancaster. I was bred and brought up at 
farming work, and became an apprentice to the 
business of Bleacher, at the age of 14 years. 
My own industry made me a master-bleacher, 
in which state I lived many years at Great 
Lever, near Bolton, where I employed about 
140 men, women, and children, and had gene- 
rally about 40 apprentices. By this business, 
pursued with incessant application, I had ats- 

2 K 



444 INTRODUCTION TO THE JOURNAL. 

quired, several years ago, property to an amount 
sufficient to satisfy any man of moderate desires. 
85f5. But, along- with my money my children 
had come and had gone on increasing to the 
number of nine. New duties now arose, and 
demanded my bewt attention. It was not suffi- 
cient that I was likely to have a decent fortune 
for each child. [ was bound to provide, if 
possible, against my children being stripped 
of what I had earned for them. I, therefore, 
looked seriously at the situation of England ; 
and, I saw, that the incomes of my children 
were all jjawned (as my friend Cobbett truly 
calls it) to pay the Debts of the Borough, or 
seat, owners. I saw, that, of whatever I 
might be able to give to my children, as well as 
of what they might be able to earn, tnot^e than 
one half would be taken away to feed pen- 
sioned Lords and Ladies, Soldiers to shoot at 
us, Parsons to persecute us, and Fundholders, 
who had lent their money to be applied to pur- 
poses of enslaving us. This view of the matter 
was sufficient to induce the father of nine child- 
ren to think of the means of rescuing them from 
the consequences, which common sense taught 
him to apprehend. But, there were other con- 
siderations, which operated with me in pro- 
ducing my emigration to America. 



INTRODUCTION TO THE JOURNAL. 445 

856. In the year 1811 and 1812 the part of 
the country, in which 1 lived, was placed under 
a new sort of law; or, in other words, it was 
placed out of the protection of the old law of 
the land. Men were seized, dragged to prison, 
treated like convicts, many transported and put 
to death, without having committed any thing, 
which the law of the land deems a crime. It 
was then that the infamous Spy-System was 
again set to work in Lancashire, in which hor- 
rid system Fletcher of Bolton was one of the 
principal actors, or, rather, organizers and pro- 
moters. At this time I endeavoured to detect 
Ihe machinations of these dealers in human 
blood ; and, 1 narrowly escaped being sacrificed 
myself on the testimony of two men, who had 
their pardon offered them on condition of thei 
swearing against me. The men refused, and 
were transported, leaving wives and children to 
starve. 

857. Upon this occasion, my friend Doctor 
Taylor, most humanely, and with his usual 
zeal and talent, laboured to counteract the 
works of Fletcher and his associates. The 
Doctor published a pamphlet on the subject, 
in 1812, which every Englishman should read. 
1, as far as 1 was able, co-operated with him. 
We went to London, laid the real facts before 
several members of the two houses of Parlia- 
2 K 2 



446 INTRODUCTION TO THE JOURNAI/. 

ment; and, in some degree, checked the pro- 
gress of the dealers in blood. T had an ihter- 
, view with Lord Holland, and told him, that, if 
he would pledge himself to cause the aer.ret- 
service money to be kept in London, 1 would 
pledge myself for the keeping of the peac<^ in 
Lancashire. In short, it was necessar}^ in order 
to support the tyranny of the seat-sellers, that 
terror should prevail in the populous districts. 
Blood was wanted to flow; and money was 
given to spies to tempt men into what the new 
law had made crimes. 

858. From this time I resolved 7iot to leave 
my children in such a state of things, unless 1 
should be taken off very suddenly. I saw no 
hope of obtaining a Reform of the Parliamenty 
without which it was clear to me, that the people 
of England must continue to work solely for the 
benefit of the great insolent families, whom I 
hated for their injustice and rapacity, and despis- 
ed for their meanness and ignorance. I saw, in 
them, a mass of debauched and worthless beings, 
having at their command an army to compel the 
oeople to surrender to them the fruits of their 
industry; and, in addition, a body existing un- 
der the garb of religion, almost as despicable in 
point of character, and still more malignant. 

859. I could not have died in peace, leaving 
my children the slaves of such a set of beings ; 



INTRODUCTION TO THE JOURNAL. 447 

and, I could not live in peace, knowing that, at 
any hour, I might die and so leave my family. 
1 lierefare, I resolved, like the Lark in the fable, 
to remove my brood, which was still more nu- 
merous than that of the Lark. While the war 
was going on between England and America, 1 
could not come to this country. Besides, I had 
great affairs to arrange. In 1816, having made 
my preparations, 1 set off, not ivith my family ; 
for, that I did not think a prudent step. It was 
necessary for me to see wliat America really 
was. I, therefore, came for that purpose. 

860. I was well pleased with America, over 
a considerable part of which I travelled. I saw 
an absence of human misery. I saw a govern- 
ment taking away a very, very small portion of 
men's earnings. I saw ease and happiness and 
a fearless utterance of thought every where 
prevail. I saw laws like those of the old laivs 
of England, every where obeyed with cheerful- 
ness and held in veneration. 1 heard of no 
mobs, no riots, no spies, no transportings, no 
hangings. I saw those very Irish, to keep 
whom in order, such murderous laws exist in 
Ireland, here good, peaceable, industrious citi- 
zens. I saw no placemen and pensioners, riding 
the people under foot. I saw no greedy Priest- 
hood, fattening on the fruits of labour in which 
they had never participated, and which fruits 



448 INTRODUCTION TO THE JOURNAL. 

they seized in despite of the people. I saw a 
Debt, indeed, but then, it was so insignificant a 
thing ; and, besides, it had been contracted for 
the peoples use, and not for that of a set of 
tyrants, who had used the money to the injury 
of the people. In short, I saw a state of things, 
precisely the reverse of that in England, and 
very nearly what it would be in England, if the 
Parliament were reformed. 

861. Therefore, in the Autumn of 1816,1 return- 
ed to England fully intending to return the next 
spring with my family and whatever I possessed 
of the fruits of my labours, and to make Ame- 
rica my country and the country of that family. 
Upon my return to England, however, I found a 
great stir about Reform; and, having, in their full 
force, all those feelings, which make our native 
country dear to us, I said, at once, " my desire 
" is, not to change country or countrymen, but 
" to change slavery for freedom : give me free- 
" dom here, and here I'll remain." These are 
nearly the very words that I uttered to Mr. 
CoBBETT, when first introduced to him, in 
December, 1816, by that excellent man, Major 
Cartwright. Nor was I unwilling to labour 
myself in the cause of Reform. 1 was one of 
those very Delegates, of whom the Borough- 
tyrants said so many falsehoods, and whom Sir 
Francis Burdett so shamefully abandoned. 



INTRODUCTION TO THE JOURNAL. 449 

In the meeting of Delegates, I thought we went 
too far in reposing confidence in him : I spoke 
my opinion as to this point : and, in a very few 
days, I had the full proof of the correctness of 
my opinion. I was present when Major Cart- 
wright opened a letter from Sir Francis, 
which had come from Leicestershire. 1 thought 
the kind-hearted old Major would have dropped 
upon the floor! 1 shall never forget his looks 
as he read that letter. If the paltry Burdett 
had a hundred lives, the taking of them all 
away would not atone for the pain he that day 
gave to Major Cartwright, not to mention the 
pain given to others, and the injury done to the 
cause. For my part, I was not much disap- 
pointed. I had no opinion of Sir Francis 
Burdett's being sound. He seemed to me too 
much attached to his own importance to do the 
people any real service. He is an aristocrat ; and 
that is enough for me. It is folly to suppose, 
that such a man will ever be a real friend of the 
rights of the people. I wish he were here a 
little while. He w^ould soon find his proper 
level ; and that would not, I think, be very 
high. Mr. Hunt was very much against our 
confiding in Burdett; and he was perfectly 
right. I most sincerely hope, that my country- 
men will finally destroy the tyrants who oppress 
them ; but, I am very sure, that, before they 



450 INTRODUCTION TO THE JOURNAL. 

succeed in it, they must cure themselves of the 
folly of depending for assistance on t\\e nohles 
or the half-nohles. 

862. After witnessing this conduct in Burdett, 
I set oft' home, and thought no more about effect- 
ing a Reform, The Acts that soon followed were, 
')y me, looked upon as matters of course. The 
tyranny could go on no longer under disguise. 
It was compelled to shew its naked face; but, 
it is now, in reality, not worse than it was 
before. It now does no more than rob the 
people, and that it did before. It kills more 
now out-right; but, men may as well be shot, 
or stabbed, or hanged, as starved to death. 

863. During the Spring and the early part of 
the Summer, of 1817, 1 made preparations for 
the departure of myself and family, and when 
all was ready, I bid an everlasting adieu to Bo- 
roughmongers, Sinecure placemen and place- 
women, pensioned Lords and Ladies, Standing- 
Armies in time of peace, and (rejoice, oh! my 
children !) to a hireling, tithe-devouring Priest- 
hood. We arrived safe and all in good health, 
and which health has never been impaired by 
the climate. We are in a state of ease, safety, 
plenty ; and how can we help being as happy 
as people can be? The more I see of ray 
adopted country, the more gratitude do I feel 
towards it for affording me and my numerous 



INTRODUCTION TO THE JOURNAL. 451 

v3fFspring protection from the tyrants of my na- 
tive country. There I should have been in 
constant anxiety about my family. Here I am 
in none at all. Here I am in fear of no spies, 
no false ivitnesses^ no hlood-money men. Here no 
fines, irons, or gallowses await me, let me think 
or say what I will about the government. Here 
I have to pay no people to be ready to shoot at 
me, or run me through the body, or chop me 
down. Here no vile Priest can rob me and 
mock me in the same breath. 

864. In the year 1816 my travelling in Ame- 
rica Mas confined to the Atlantic States. I 
there saw enough to determine the question of 
emigration or no emigration. But, a spot to 
settle on myself was another matter ; for, though 
1 do not know, that I shall meddle with any 
sort of trade, or occupation, in the view of 
getting money, I ought to look about me, and 
to consider soberly as to a spot to settle on with 
so large a family. It was right, therefore, for 
me to see the Western Countries. I have done 
this; and the particulars, which I thought 
worthy my notice, I noted down in a Journal. 
This Journal I now submit to the public. My 
chief motive in the publication is to endeavour 
to convey useful information, and especially to 
those persons, who may be disposed to follow 
my example, and to withdraw their families 



452 INTRODU( TION TO THE JOUKNAL. 

and fortunes from beneath the hoofs of the 
tyrants of England. 

865. I have not the vanity to suppose myself 
eminently qualified for any thing beyond my 
own profession ; but I have been an attentive 
observer ; I have raised a considerable fortune 
by my own industry and economy ; I have, all 
my life long, studied the matters connected 
with agriculture, trade, and manufactures. I 
had a desire to acquire an accurate knowledge 
of the Western Countries, and what I did ac- 
quire I have endeavoured to communicate to 
others. It was not my object to give flowery 
descriptions. 1 leave that to poets and painters. 
Neither have I attempted any general estimate 
of the means or manner of living, or getting 
money, in the West. But, I have contented 
myself with merely noting down the facts that 
struck me; and from those facts the reader 
must draw his conclusions. 

866. In one respect I am a proper person to 
give an account of the Western Countries, i 
have no lands there: I have no interests there: 
I have nothing to warp my judgment in favour 
of those countries : and yet, I have as little in 
the Atlantic States to warp my judgment in 
their favour. I am perfectly impartial in my 
feelings, and am, therefore, likely to be impar- 
tial in my words. My good wishes extend to 



INTRODUCTION TO THE JOURNAL. 453 

the utmost boundary of my adopted country. 
Every particular part of it is as dear to me as 
every other particular part. 

867. I have recommended most strenuously 
the encouraging and promoting oi Domestic Ma- 
nufacture; not because I mean to be engaged 
in any such concern myself; for it is by no 
means likely that I ever shall ; but, because I 
think that such encouragement and promotion 
would be greatly beneficial to America, and 
because it would provide a happy Asylum for 
my native oppressed and distressed country- 
men, who have been employed all the days of 
their lives in manufactures in England, where 
the principal part of the immense profits of 
their labour is consumed by the Borough 
tyrants and their friends, and expended for the 
vile purpose of perpetuating a system of plun- 
der and despotism at home, and all over the 
world. 

868. Before I conclude this Introduction, I 
must observe, that I see with great pain, and 
with some degree of shame, the behaviour of 
some persons from England, who appear to 
think that they give proof of their High breeding 
by repaying civility, kindness, and hospitality, 
with reproach and insolence. However, these 
persons are despised. They produce very little 
itiipression here; and, though the accounts 



454 INTRODUCTION TO THE JOURNAL. 

they send to England, may be believed by 
some, they will have little effect on persons of 
sense and virtue. Truth will make its way; 
and it is, thank God, now making its way with 
great rapidity. 

869. I could mention numerous instances of 
Englishmen, coming to this country with hardly 
a dollar in their pocket, and arriving at a state 
of ease and plenty and even riches in a few 
years ; and I explicitly declare, that I have 
never known or heard of, an instance of one 
common labourer who, with common industry 
and economy, did not greatly better his lot. 
Indeed, how can it otherwise be, when the 
average wages of agricultural labour is double 
what it is in England, and vv^hen the average 
price of food is not more than half what it is in 
that country ? These two facts, undeniable as 
they are, are quite sufficient to satisfy any man 
of sound mind. 

870. As to the manners of the people, they 
are precisely to my taste: unostentatious and 
simple. Good sense I find every where, and 
never affectation. Kindness, hospitality, and 
never-failing civility. 1 have travelled more than 
four thousand miles about this country ; and 1 
never met with one single insolent or rude native 
American. 

871. 1 trouble myself very little about the 



INTRODUCTION TO THE JOURNAL. 455 

party politics of the country. These contests 
are the natural offspring of freedom ; and, they 
tend to perpetuate that which produces them. 
I look at the people as a ivhole ; and 1 love them 
and feel grateful to them for having given the 
world a practical proof, that peace, social 
order, and general happiness can be secured, 
and best secured, without Monarchs, Dukes, 
Counts, Baronets, and Knights. I have no 
unfriendly feeling towards any Religious So- 
ciety. I wish well to every member of every 
such Society ; but, I love the Quakers, and feel 
grateful towards them, for having proved to the 
world, that all the virtues, public as well as 
private, flourish most and bring forth the fairest 
fruits when unincumbered with those noxious 
weeds, hireling priests. 

THOMAS HULME. 



THE JOURNAL. 



872. Pittsburgh, June 3. - Arrived 
here with a friend as travelling companion, by 
the mail stage from Philadelphia, tifter a jour- 
ney of six days; having set out on the 28th 
May. We were much pleased with the face of 
the country, the greatest part of which was new 
to me. The route, as far as Lancaster, lay 
through a rich and fertile country, well cultivated 
by good, settled proprietors ; the road excel- 
lent: smooth as the smoothest in England, and 
hard as those made by the cruel corvees in 
France. The country finer, but the road not 
always so good, all the way from Lancaster, by 
Little York, to Chambersburgh ; after which it 
changes for mountains and poverty, except in 
timber. Chambersburgh is situated on the 
North West side of that fine valley which lies 
between the South and North Mountains, and 
which extends from beyond the North East 
boundary of Pennsylvania to nearly the South 
West extremity of North Carolina, and which 
has limestone for its bottom and rich and fertile 



PART III.] JOURNAL. 457 

soil, and beauty upon the face of it, from one 
end to the other. The ridges of mountains 
called the Allegany, and forming the highest 
land in North America between the Atlantic 
and Pacific oceans, begin here and extend 
across our route nearly 100 miles, or, rather, 
three days, for it was no less than half the 
journey to travel over them; they rise one 
above the other as we proceed Westward, till 
we reach the Allegany, the last and most lofty 
of all, from which we have a view to the West 
farther than the eye can carry. I can say 
nothing in commendation of the road over 
these mountains, but I must admire the drivers, 
and their excellent horses. The road is every 
thing that is bad, but the skill of the drivers, 
and the well constructed vehicles, and the capi- 
tal old English horses, overcome every thing. 
We were rather singularly fortunate in not 
breaking down or upsetting; 1 certainly should 
not have been surprized if the whole thing, 
horses and all, had gone off the road and been 
dashed to pieces. A new road is making, how- 
ever, and when that is completed, the journey 
will be shorter in point of time, just one half. 
A fine even country we get into immediately 
on descending the Allegany, with very little 
appearance of unevenness or of barrenness all 
the way to Pittsburgh; the evidence of good 



458 JOURNAL. [part III. 

land in the crops, and the country beautified by 
a various mixture of woods and fields. 

873. Very good accommodations for travellers 
the whole of the May. The stage stops to 
breakfast and to dine, and sleeps where it sups. 
They literally feasted us every where, at every 
meal, with venison and good meat of all sorts : 
every thing in profusion. In one point, how- 
ever, I must make an exception, with regard to 
some houses : at night 1 was surprized, in 
taverns so well kept in other respects, to find 
bugs in the beds ! I am sorry to say 1 observed 
(or, rather, felt,) this too often. Always good 
eating and drinking, but not always good 
sleeping. 

874. June 4th and 5th. — Took a view of 
Pittsburgh. It is situated between the mouths 
of the rivers Allegany and Monongahela, at 
the point where they meet and begin the Ohio, 
and is laid out in a triangular form, so that two 
sides of it lie contiguous to the water. Called 
upon Mr. Bakewell, to whom we were intro- 
duced by letter, and who very obligingly satis- 
fied our curiosity to see every thing of impor- 
tance. After showing us through his extensive 
and weU conducted glass works, he rowed us 
across the Monongahela to see the mines from 
which the fine coals we had seen burning were 
brought. These coals are taken out from the 



PART III.] JOURNAL. 459 

side of a steep hill, very near to the river, and 
brought from thence and laid down in any part 
of the town for 7 cents the bushel, weighing, 
perhaps, 80 lbs. Better coals I never saw. A 
bridge is now building over the river, by which 
they will most probably be brought still 
cheaper. 

875. This place surpasses even my expecta- 
tions, both in natural resources and in extent of 
manufactures. Here are the materials for every 
species of manufacture, nearly, and of excellent 
quality and in profusion ; and these means 
have been taken advantage of by skilful and 
industrious artizans and mechanics from all 
parts of the world. There is scarcely a deno- 
mination of manufacture or manual profession 
that is not carried on to a great extent, and, as 
far as I have been able to examine, in the best 
manner. The manufacture of iron in all the 
different branches, and the mills of all sorts, 
which 1 examined with the most attention, are 
admirable. 

876. Price of flour, from 4 to 5 dollars a 
barrel; butter 14 cents per lb.; other provi- 
sions in proportion and mechanic's and good 
labourer's wages 1 dollar, and ship-builder's 
1 dollar and a half, a day. 

877. June 6th. — Leave Pittsburgh, and set 
out in a thing called an ark, which we buy for 

2 L 



460 JOURNAL. [part III, 

the purpose, down the Ohio. We have, be- 
sides, a small skiff, to tow the ark and go 
ashore occasionally. This ark, which would 
stow away eight persons, close packed, is a 
thing by no means pleasant to travel in, espe- 
cially at night. It is strong at bottom, but may 
be compared to an orange-box, bowed over at 
top, and so badly made as to admit a boy's 
hand to steal the oranges : it is proof against 
the river, but not against the rain. 

878. Just on going to push off the wharf, an 
EngHsh officer stepped on board of us, with all 
the curiosity imaginable. I at once took him 
for a spy hired to way-lay travellers. He began 
a talk about the Western countries, anxiously 
assuring us that we need not hope to meet with 
such a thing as a respectable person, travel 
where we would. I told him I hoped in God 
1 should see no spy or informer, whether in 
plain clothes or regimentals, and that of one 
thing 1 was certain, at any rate : that I should 
find no Sinecure placeman or pensioner in the 
Western country. 

879. The Ohio, at its commencement, is about 
600 yards broad, and continues running with 
nearly parallel sides, taking two or three dif 
ferent directions in its course, for about 200 
miles. There is a curious contrast between the 
waters which form this river : that of the Alle- 



PART III,] JOURNAL. 461 

gaiiy is clear and transparent, that of the Mo- 
nongahela thick and muddy, and it is not for a 
considerable distance that they entirely mingle. 
The sides of the river are beautiful ; there are 
always rich bottom lands upon the banks, 
which are steep and pretty high, varying in 
width from a few yards to a mile, and skirted 
with steep hills varying also in height, over- 
hanging with fine timber. 

880. June 1th. — Floating down the Ohio, at 
the rate of four miles an hour. Lightning, 
thunder, rain and hail pelting in upon us. The 
hail-stones as large as English hazle-nuts. Stop 
at Steuben ville all night A nice place; has 
more stores than taverns, which is a good sign. 

881. June ^th. — Came to Wheeling at about 
12 o'clock. It is a handsome place, and of 
considerable note. Stopped about an hour. 
Found flour to be about 4 to 5 dollars a barrel ; 
fresh beef 4 to 6 cents per lb., and other things 
(the produce of the country) about the same 
proportion. Labourers' wages, 1 dollar a day. 
Fine coals here, and at Steuben ville. 

882. Ju7ie 9th. — Two fine young men join us, 
one a carpenter and the other a saddler, from 
Washington, in a skiff that they have bought at 
Pittsburgh, and in which they are taking a 
journey of about 700 miles down the river. 
We allow them to tie their skiffs to our ark, for 

2l 2 



462 JOURNAL. [part III. 

which they very cheerfully assist us. Much 
diverted to see the nimbleness with which they 
go oil shore sometimes with their rifles to shoot 
pigeons and squirrels. The whole expences of 
these two young men in floating the 700 miles, 
will be but 7 dollars each, including skiff and 
every thing else. 

883. This day pass Marietta, a good looking 
town at the mouth of the Muskingham River. 
It is, however, like many other towns on the 
Ohio, built on too low ground, and is subject to 
inundations. Here [ observe a contrivance of 
great ingenuity. There is a strong rope put 
across the mouth of the river, opposite the 
town, fastened to trees or large posts on each 
side; upon this rope runs a pulley or block, to 
which is attached a rope, and to the rope a 
ferry-boat, which, by moving the helm first one 
way and then the other, is propelled by the 
force of the water across the river backwards 
or forwards. 

884. June \Otk. — Pass several fine coal mines, 
which, like those at Pittsburgh, Steubenville, 
Wheeling and other places, are not above 50 
yards from the river and are upwards of 10 
yards above high water. The river now becomes 
more winding than we have hitherto found it. It 
is sometimes so serpentine tliat it appears before 
and behind like a continuation of lakes, and the 



PART III.] JOURNAL. 463 

hills on its banks seem to be the separations. 
Altogether, nothing can be more beautiful. 

885. June 1 \th. — A very hot day, but 1 could 
not discover the degree of heat. On going 
along vv^e bought two Perch, weighing about 
8 lbs. each, for 25 cents, of a boy who was fish- 
ing. Fish of this sort will sometimes weigh 
30 lbs. each. 

886. June 12t/i. — Pass Portsmouth, at the 
mouth of the Scioto River. A sort of village, 
containing a hundred or two of houses. Not 
worthy of any particular remark. 

887. June 13tA. — Arrived at Cincinnati about 
midnight. Tied our ark to a large log at the 
side of the river, and went to sleep. Before 
morning, however, the fastening broke, and, if 
it had not been for a watchful back-woods-man 
whom we had taken on board some distance up 
the river, we might have floated ten or fifteen 
miles without knowing it. This back-woods- 
man, besides being of much service to us, has 
been a very entertaining companion. He says 
he has been in this country forty years, but 
that he is an Englishman, and was bred in 
Sherwood Forest (he could not have come from 
a better nursery). All his adventures he detailed 
to us very minutely, but dwelt with particular 
warmth upon one he had had with a priest, 
lately, who, to spite him for preaching, brought 



464 JOURNAL. [part III, 

an action against him, but was cast and had to 
pay costs. 

888. June 14th and 16t/i. — Called upon 
Doctor Drake and upon a Mr. Bosson, to 
whom we had letters. These gentlemen shewed 
us the greatest civility, and treated us with a 
sort of kindness which must have changed the 
opinion even of the English officer whom we 
saw at Pittsburgh, had he been with us. I 
could tell that dirty hireling scout, that even 
in this short space of time, I have had the plea- 
sure to meet many gentlemen, very well in- 
fornied, and possessing great knowledge as to 
their own country, evincing public spirit in all 
their actions, and hospitality and kindness in 
all their demeanor ; but, if they be pensioners, 
male or female, or sinecure place lords or la- 
dies, I have yet come across, thank God, no 
7'espectable people. 

889. Cincinnati is a very fine town, and ele- 
gantly (not only in the American acceptation 
of the word) situated on the banks of the river, 
nearly opposite to Licking Creek, which runs 
out of Kentucky, and is a stream of considerable 
importance. The country round the town is 
beautiful, and the soil rich; the fields in its 
immediate vicinity bear principally grass, and 
clover of different sorts, the fragrant smell of 
which perfumes the air. The town itself ranks 



PART III.] JOURNAL. 465 

iiext to Pittsburgh, of the towns on the Ohio, 
in point of manufactures. 

890. We sold our ark, and its produce form- 
ed a deduction from our expences, which, with 
that deduction, amounted to 14 dollars each, 
including every thing, for the journey from 
Pittsburgh to this place, which is upwards of 
500 miles. I could not but remark the price 
of fuel here; 2 dollars a cord for Hickory; a 
cord is 8 feet by 4, and 4 deep, and the wood, 
the best in the world ; it burns much like green 
Ash, but gives more heat. This, which is of 
course the highest price for fuel in this part of 
the country, is only about a fifth of what it is 
at Philadelphia. 

891. Ju7ie IGth. — Left Cincinnati for Louis- 
ville with seven other persons, in a skiff about 
20 feet long and 5 feet wide. 

892. June llth, — Stopped at Vevay, a very 
neat and beautiful place, about 70 miles above 
the falls of the Ohio, Our visit here was prin- 
cipally to see the mode used, as well as what 
progress was made, in the cultivation of the 
vine, and I had a double curiosity, never hav- 
ing as yet seen a vineyard. These vineyards 
are cultivated entirely by a small settlement of 
Swiss, of about a dozen families, who have 
been here about ten years. They first settled 
on the Kentucky river, bUt did not succeed 



466 JOURNAL. [part III. 

there. They plant the vines in rows, attached 
to stakes like espaliers, and they ploujrh be- 
tween with a one-horse j^lough. The grapes, 
which are of the sorts of claret and madeira, 
look very fine and Inxuriant, and will be ripe 
in about the middle of September. The soil 
and climate both appear to be quite congenial 
to the growth of the vine : the former rich and 
the latter warm. The north west wind, when 
it blows, is very cold, but the south, south 
east and south west winds, which are al- 
ways warm, are prevalent. The heat, in the 
middle of the summer, 1 understand, is very 
great, being generally above 85 degrees, and 
sometimes above 100 degrees. Each of these 
families has a farm as well as a vineyard, so 
that they supply themselves with almost every 
necessary and have their wine all clear profit. 
Their produce will this year be probably not 
less than 5000 gallons ; we bought 2 gallons 
of it at a dollar each, as good as I would 
wish to drink. Thus it is that the tyrants of 
Europe create vineyards in this new country! 

893. June \Qth. — Arrived at Lousville, Ken- 
tucky. The town is situated at the commence- 
ment of the falls, or rapids, of the Ohio. The 
river, at this place, is little less than a mile 
wide, and the falls continue from a ledge of 
rocks which runs across the river in a sloping 



PART III.] JOURNAL. 467 

direction at this part, to Shippingport, about 
2 miles lower down. Perceiving stagnant wa- 
tCTS about the town, and an appearance of the 
bouse that we stopped at being infested with 
bugs, we resolved not to make any stay at 
Louisville, but got into our skiff and floated 
down the falls to Shippingport. We found it 
very rough floating, not to say dangerous. The 
river of very unequal widths and full of islands 
and rocks along this short distance, and the 
current very rapid, though the descent is not 
more than 22 feet. At certain times of the 
year the water rises so that there is no fall ; 
large boats can then pass. 

894. At Shippingport, stopped at the house 
of Mr. Berthoud, a very respectable French 
gentleman, from whom we received the greatest 
civility during our stay, which was two nights 
and th€ day intervening. 

895. Shippingport is situated at a place of 
very great importance, being the upper extremi- 
ty of that part of the river which is navigable for 
heavy steam-boats. All the goods coming from 
the country are re-shipped, and every thing going 
to it is un-shipped, here. Mr. Berthoud has 
the store in which the articles exporting or im- 
porting are lodged ; and is, indeed, a great 
shipper, though at a thousand miles from the 
sea. 



468 JOURNAL. [part III. 

896. June 20th. — Left the good and com- 
fortable house of Mr. Berthoud, very much 
pleased with him and his amiable wife and fa- 
mily, though [ differed with him a little in po- 
litics. Having been taught at church, when a 
boy, that the Pope was the whore of Babylon, 
that the Bourbons were tyrants, and that the 
Priests and privileged orders of France were 
impostors and petty tyrants under them, 1 
could not agree with him in applauding the 
Boroughmongers of England for re-subjugating 
the people of France, and restoring the Bour- 
bons, the Pope, and the Inquisition. 

897. Stop at New Albany, 2 miles below 
Shippingport, till the evening. A Mr. Paxton, 
I am told, is the proprietor of a great part of 
the town, and has the grist and saw-mills, 
which are worked by steam, and the ferry 
across the river. Leave this place in company 
with a couple of young men from the western 
part of the state of New York, who are on their 
way to Tennessee in a small ferry-boat. Their 
whole journey will, probably, be about 1,500 
miles. 

898. June 2\st. — Floating down the river, 
without any thing in particular occurring. 

899. June 22nd. — Saw a Mr. Johnstone and 
his wife reaping wheat on the side of the river. 
They told us they had come to this spot last 



PART III.] JOURNAL. 469 

year, direct from Manchester, Old England, and 
had bonght their little farm of 55 acres of a 
back-woods-man who had cleared it, and was 
glad to move further westward, for 3 dollars 
an acre. They had a fine flock of little chil- 
dren, and pigs and poultry, and were cheerful 
and happy, being confident that their industry 
and economy would not be frustrated by visits 
for tithes or taxes. 

900. June 23rd. — See great quantities of tur- 
key-buzzards and thousands of pigeons. Came 
to Pigeon Creek, about 230 miles below the 
Falls, and stopped for the night at Evansville, 
a town of nine months old, near the mouth of 
it. We are now frequently met and passed by 
large, fine steam-boats, plying up and down 
the river. One went by us as we arrived here 
which had left Shippingport only the evening 
before. They go down the river at the rate of 
10 miles an hour, and charge passengers 6 cents 
a mile, boarding and lodging included. The 
price is great, but the time is short. 

901. J?me 24/^.— Left Evansville. This little 
place is rapidly increasing, and promises to be 
a town of considerable trade. It is situated at 
a spot which seems likely to become a port for 
shipping to Princeton and a pretty large dis- 
trict of Indiana. I find that the land specula- 
tors have made entry of the most eligible 



470 JOURNAL. [part III, 

tracts of land, which will impede the partial, 
though not the final, progress of population 
and improvement in this, part of the state. 

902. On our way to Princeton, we see large 
flocks of fine wild turkeys, and whole herds of 
pigs, apparently very fat. The pigs are wild 
also, but have become so from neglect. Some 
of the inhabitants, who prefer sport to work, 
live by shooting these wild turkeys and pigs, 
and, indeed, sometimes, I nnderstand, they 
shoot and carry off those of their neighbours 
before they are wild. 

903. June Ibth. — Arrived at Princeton, In- 
diana, about 20 miles from the river. I was 
sorry to see very little doing in this town. They 
cannot all keep stores and taverns ! One of the 
store-keepers told me he does not sell more 
than ten thousand dollars value per annum: 
he ought, then, to manufacture something and 
not spend nine tenths of his time in lolling with 
a segar in his mouth. 

904. June 2{Mh. — At Princeton, endeavour- 
ing to purchase horses, as we had now gone 
far enough down the Ohio. While waiting in 
our tavern, two men called in armed with I'ifles, 
and made enquiries for some horses they sus- 
pected to be stolen. They told us they had 
been almost all the way from Albany, to Shaw- 
nee town after them, a distance of about 150 



PART III.] JOURNAL. 471 

miles. I asked them how they would be able 
to secure the thieves, if they overtook them, in 
these wild woods ; " O" said they, " shoot 
" them off the horses." This is a summary 
mode of executing- justice, thought 1, though 
probably the most effectual, and, indeed, only 
one in this state of society. A thief very rarely 
escapes here; not nearly so often as in more 
populous districts. The fact was, in this case, 
however, we discovered afterwards, that the 
horses had strayed away, and had returned 
home by this time. But, if they had been 
stolen, the stealers would not have escaped. 
When the loser is tired, another will take up 
the pursuit, and the whole country is up in 
arms till he is found. 

905. June 21th. — Still at Princeton. At last 
we get suited with horses. Mine costs me 
only 135 dollars with the bridle and saddle, 
and that I am told is 18 dollars too much. 

906. Jmie 2iMh. — Left Princeton, and set out 
to see Mr. Birkbeck's settlement, in Illinois, 
about 35 miles from Princeton. Before we got to 
the Wabash we had to cross a swamp of half a 
mile wide; we were obliged to lead our horses, 
and walk up to the knees in mud and water. 
Before we got half across we began to think of 
going back ; but, there is a sound bottom un- 
der it all, and we waded through it as well as 



472 JOURNAL. [part III. 

we could. It is, in fact, nothing but a bed of 
very soft and rich land, and only wants drain- 
ing to be made productive. We soon after came 
to the banks of the great Wabash, which is 
here about half a mile broad, and as the ferry- 
boat was crossing over with us I amused myself 
by washing my dirty boots. Before we mounted 
again we happened to meet with a neighbour of 
Mr. Birkbeck's, who was returning home; we 
accompanied him, and soon entered into the 
prairie lands, up to our horses' bellies in fine 
grass. These prairies, which are surrounded 
with lofty woods, put me in mind of immense 
noblemen's parks in England. Some of those 
we j)assed over are called ivet prairies^ but, 
they are dry at this time of the year; and, as 
they are none of them flat, they need but very 
simple draining to carry off the water all the 
year round. Our horses were very much tor- 
mented with flies, some as large as the English 
horse-fly and some as large as the wasp; these 
flies infest the prairies that are unimproved 
about three months in the year, but go away 
altogether as soon as cultivation begins. 

907. Mr. Birkbeck's settlement is situated 
between the two Wabashes, and is about ten 
miles from the nearest navigable water ; we ar«- 
rived there about sun-set, and met with a wel- 
come which amply repaid us for our day's toil. 



PART III.] JOURNAL. 473 

We found that gentleman with his two sons 
perfectly healthy and in high spirits : his daugh- 
ters were at Henderson (a town in Kentucky, 
on the Ohio) on a visit. At present his habita- 
tion is a cabin, the building of which cost only 
20 dollars; this little hutch is near the spot 
where he is about to build his house, which he 
intends to have in the most eligible situation in 
the prairie for convenience to fuel and for shel- 
ter in winter, as well as for breezes in summer, 
and will, when that is completed, make one of 
its appurtenances. I like this plan of keeping 
the old log-house ; it reminds the grand child- 
ren and their children's children of what their 
ancestor has done for their sake. 

908. Few settlers had as yet joined Mr. Birk- 
beck ; that is to say, settlers likely to become 
" 5oc«e^^ ;" he has labourers enough near him, 
either in his own houses or on land of their own 
joining his estate. He was in daily expectation 
of his friends Mr. Flower's family, however, 
with a large party besides ; they had just landed 
at Shaw nee Town, about 20 miles distant. Mr. 
Birkbeck informs me he has made entry of a 
large tract of land, lying, part of it, all the way 
from his residence to the great Wabash ; this he 
will re-sell again in lots to any of his friends, 
they taking as much of it and wherever they 
choose (provided it be no more than they can 



474 JOURNAL. [part III. 

cultivate), at an advance vv'hicli I think very 
fair and liberal. 

909. The whole of his operations had been 
directed hitherto (and wisely in my opinion) to 
building', fencing, and other important prepara- 
tions. He had done nothing in the cultivating 
way but make a good garden, which supplies 
him with the only things that he cannot pur- 
chase, and, at present, perhaps, with more eco- 
nomy than he could grow them. He is within 
twenty miles of Harmony, in Indiana, where 
he gets his flour and all other necessaries (the 
produce of the country), and therefore employs 
himself much better in making barns and houses 
and mills for the reception and disposal of his 
crops, and fences to preserve them while grow- 
ing, before he groivs them, than to get the crops 
first. I have heard it observed that any Ameri- 
can settler, even without a dollar in his pocket, 
would have had something growing hy this time. 
Very true ! I do not question that at all ; for, 
the very first care of a settler without a dollar 
in his pocket is to get something to eat, and, he 
would consequently set to work scratching up 
the earth, fully confident that after a long sum- 
mering upon wild flesh (without salt, perhaps) 
his own belly would stand him for barn, if his 
jaws would not for mill. But the case is very 
different with Mr. Birkbeck, and at present he 



FART III.] JOURNAL. 475 

has need for no other provision for winter but 
about a three hundredth part of his fine grass 
turned into hay, which will keep his necessary 
horses and cows ; besides which he has nothing 
that eats but such pigs as live upon the waste, 
and a couple of fine young deer (which would 
weigh, they say when full grown, 200 lbs. dead 
weight), that his youngest son is rearing up as 
pets. 

910. I very much admire Mr. Birkbeck's 
mode of fencing. He makes a ditch 4 feet 
wide at top, sloping to 1 foot wide at bottom, 
and 4 feet deep. With the earth that comes out 
of the ditch he makes a bank on one side, 
which is turfed towards the ditch. Then a 
long pole is put up from the bottom of the 
ditch to 2 feet above the bank ; this is crossed 
by a short pole from the other side, and then a 
rail is laid along between the forks. The banks 
w^ere growing beautifully, and looked altogether 
very neat as well as formidable ; though a live 
hedge (which he intends to have) instead of dead 
poles and rails, upon top, would make the fence 
far more effectual as well as handsomer. 1 am 
always surprized, until I reflect how universally 
and to what a degree, farming is neglected in 
this country, that this mode of fencing is not 
adopted in cultivated districts, especially where 
the land is wet, or lies low ; for, there it answers 

2 m 



476 JOURNAL. [part III. 

a double purpose, beinj^ as effectual a drain as 
it is a fence. 

911. I was rather disappointed, or sorry, at 
any rate, not to find near Mr. Birkbeck's any of 
the means for machinery or of the materials for 
manufactures, such as the water-falls, and the 
minerals and mines, which are possessed in 
such abundance by the states of Ohio and Ken- 
tucky, and by some parts of Pennsylvania. Some 
of these, however, he may yet find. Good wa- 
ter he has, at any rate. He showed me a well 
25 feet deep, bored partly through hard sub- 
stances near the bottom, that was nearly over- 
flowing with water of excellent quality. 

912. July l5^— Left Mr. Birkbeck's for Har- 
mony, Indiana. The distance by the direct way 
is about 18 miles, but there is no road, as yet; 
indeed, it was often with much difficulty that 
we could discover the way at all. After we had 
crossed the Wabash, which we did at a place 
called Davis's Ferry, we hired a man to con- 
duct us some part of the way through the 
woods. In about a mile he brought us to a track, 
which was marked out by slips of bark being 
stripped off the trees, once in about 40 yards ; 
he then left us, and told us we could not mis- 
take if we followed that track. We soon lost 
all appearance of the tiack, however, and of the 
^' blazing' of the trees, as they call it; but, ai 



PART III.] JOURNAL. 477 

it was useless to go back again for another 
guide, our only way was to keep straight on in 
the same direction, bring us where it would. 
Having no compass, this nearly cost us our 
sight, for it was just mid-day, and we had to 
gaze at the sun a long time before we discovered 
what was our course. After this we soon, to 
our great joy, found ourselves in a large corn 
field; rode round it, and came to Johnson's 
Ferry, a place where a Bayou (Boyau) of the 
Wabash is crossed. This Bayou is a run out 
of the main river, round a flat portion of land, 
which is sometimes overflowed : it is part of 
the same river, and the land encompassed by it, 
an island. Crossed this ferry in a canoe, and 
got a ferry-man to swim our horses after us. 
Mounted again and followed a track which 
brought us to Black River, which we forded 
without getting wet, by holding our feet up. 
After crossing the river we found a man who 
was kind enough to shew us about half a mile 
through the woods, by which our journey was 
shortened five or six miles. He put us into a 
direct track to Harmony, through lands as rich 
as a dung-hill, and covered with immense tim- 
ber ; we thanked him, and pushed on our horses 
with eager curiosity to see this far-famed Har- 
monist Society. 

2 M 2 



478 JOURNAL. [part III. 

913. On coming within the precincts of the 
Hannonites we found ourselves at the side of the 
Wabash again ; the river on our right hand, and 
their lands on our left. Our road now lay 
across a field of Indian corn, of, at the very 
least, a mile in width, and bordering the town 
on the side we entered ; I wanted nothing more 
than to behold this immense field of most beau- 
tiful corn to be at once convinced of all 1 had 
heard of the industry of this society of Ger- 
mans, and 1 found, on proceeding a little far- 
ther, that the progress they had made exceeded 
all my idea of it. 

914. The town is methodically laid out in a 
situation well chosen in all respects ; the houses 
are good and clean, and have, each one, a nice 
garden well stocked with all vegetables and 
tastily ornamented with flowers. I observe that 
these people are very fond of flowers, by the 
bye; the cultivation of them, and musick, are 
their chief amusements. I am sorry to see this, 
as it is to me a strong symptom of simplicity 
and ignorance, if not a badge of their German 
slavery. Perhaps the pains they take with them 
is the cause of their flowers being finer than any 
I have hitherto seen in America, but, most pro- 
bably, the climate here is more favourable. Hav- 
ing refreshed ourselvejat the Tavern, where we 



PART III.] JOURNAL. 479 

found every tiling we wanted for ourselves and 
our horses, and all very clean and nice, besides 
many good things we did not expect, such as 
beer, porter, and even wine, all made within the 
Society, and very good indeed, we then went 
out to see the people at their harvest, which 
was just begun. There were 150 men and 
women all reaping in the same field of wheat. 
A beautiful sight ! The crop was very fine, and 
the field, extending to about two miles in length, 
and from half a mile to a mile in width, was all 
open to one view, the sun shining on it from the 
West, and the reapers advancing regularly over 
it. 

915.' At sun-set all the people came in, from 
the fields, work-shops, mills, manufactories, and 
from all their labours. This being their evening 
for prayer during the week, the Church bell 
called them out again, in about 15 minutes, to 
attend a lecture from their High Priest and 
Law-giver, Mr. George Rapp. We went to 
hear the lecture, or, rather, to see the per- 
formance, for, it being all performed in German, 
we could understand not a word. The people 
were all collected in a twinkling, the men at 
one end of the Church and the women at the 
other ; it looked something like a Quaker Meet- 
ing, except that there vtas not a single little 
child in the place. Here they were kept hj 



480 JOURNAL. [part III. 

their Pastor a couple of hours, after which 
they returned home to bed. This is the quan- 
tum of Church-service they perform during the 
week; but on Sundays they are in Church 
nearly the whole of the time from getting up to 
going to bed. When it happens that Mr. Rapp 
cannot attend, either by indisposition or other 
accident, the Society still meet as usual, and 
the elders (certain of the most trusty and dis- 
creet, whom the Pastor selects as a sort of as- 
sistants in his divine commission) converse on 
religious subjects. 

916. Return to the Tavern to sleep; a good 
comfortable house, well kept by decent people, 
and the master himself, who is very intelligent 
and obliging, is one of the very few at Harmony 
Avho can speak English. Our beds were as- 
good as those stretched upon by the most 
highly pensioned and placed Boroughmongers,. 
and our sleep, I hope, much better than the 
tyrants ever get, in spite of all their dungeons 
and gags. 

917. July %id. — Early in the morning, took a 
look at the manufacturing establishment, accom- 
panied by our l^avern-keeper. 1 find great at- 
tention is paid to this branch of their affairs. 
Their principle is, not to be content with the 
profit upon the manuai labour of i^aising the 
article, but also to have the benefit of the ma- 



PART III.] JOURNAL. 481 

chine in preparing it for use. I agree with them 
perfectly, and only wish the subject was as 
well understood all over the United States as it 
is at Harmony. It is to their skill in this way 
that they owe their great prosperity ; if they had 
been nothing but farmers, they would be now 
at Harmony in Pennsylvania, poor cultivators, 
getting a bare subsistence, instead of having 
doubled their property two or three times over, 
by which they have been able to move here 
and select one of the choicest spots in the 
country. 

918, But, in noting down the state of this 
Society, as it now is, its origifi should not be 
forgotten; the curious history of it serves as an 
explanation to the jumble of sense and absurdity 
in the association. 1 will therefore trace the 
Harmonist Society from its outset in Germany 
to this place. 

919. The Sect had its origin at Wurtemberg 
in Germany, about 40 years ago, in the person 
of its present Pastor and Master, George Rapp, 
who, by his own account, " having long seen 
'* and felt the decline of the Church, found 
" himself impelled to bear testimony to the 
" fundamental principles of the Christian Reli- 
" gion ; and, finding no toleration for his in- 
•' spired doctrines, or for tliose who adopted 
*' them, he determined with his followers to go 



482 JOURNAL. [part III. 

" to that part of the earth where they were 
«* free to worship God according to the dictates 
" of their conscience." In other words (I sup- 
pose), he had long beheld and experienced the 
slavery and misery of his country, and, feeling 
in his conscience that he was born more for a 
ruler than for a slave, found himself imperiously 
called upon to collect together a body of his 
poor countrymen and to lead them into a land 
of liberty and abundance. However, allowing 
him to have had no other than his professed 
views, he, after he had got a considerable num- 
ber of proselytes, amounting to seven or eight 
hundred persons, among whom were a suf- 
ficiency of good labourers and artizans in all 
the essential branches of workmanship and 
trade, besides farmers, he embodied them into 
a Society, and then came himself to America 
(not trusting to Providence to lead the way) to 
seek out the land destined for these chosen 
children. Having done so, and laid the plan 
for his route to the land of peace and Christian 
love, with a foresight which shows him to have 
been by no means unmindful to the temporal 
prosperity of the Society, he then landed his 
followers in separate bodies, and prudently led 
them in that order to a resting place within 
Pennsylvania, choosing rather to retard their 
progress through the wilderness than to hazard 



PART III.] JOURNAL. 483 

the discontent that might arise from want and 
fatigue in traversing it at once. When they 
were all arrived, Rapp constituted them into 
one body, having every thing in common, and 
called the settlement Harmony. This consti- 
tution he found authorized by the passage in 
Acts, iv, 32. " And the multitude of them that 
" believed were of one heart, and of one soul : 
" neither said any of them that aught of the 
" things he possessed was his own, hut that 
" they had all things common^ Being thus asso- 
ciated, the Society went to work, early in 1805, 
building houses and clearing lands, according 
to the order and regulations of their leader; 
but, the community of stock, or the regular 
discipline, or the restraints which he had re- 
duced them to, and which were essential to his 
project, soon began to thin his followers, and 
principally, too, those of them who had brought 
most substance into the society ; they demanded 
back their original portions and set out to seek 
the Lord by themselves. This falling off of the 
society, thoughit was but small, comparatively, 
in point of numbers, was a great reduction from 
their means; they had calculated what they 
should want to consume, and had laid the rest 
out in land ; so that the remaining part were 
subjected to great hardships and difficulties for 
the first year or two of their settling, which wa« 



484 JOURNAL. [part III. 

during the time of their greatest labours. How- 
ever, it was not long- before they began to reap 
the fruits of their toil, and in the space of six or 
seven years their settlement became a most 
flourishing colony. During that short space of 
time they brought into cultivation 3,000 acres of 
land (a third of tlieir whole estate), reared a 
flock of nearly 2,000 sheep, and planted hop- 
gardens, orchards, and vineyards; built barns 
and stables to house their crops and their live 
stock, granaries to keep one year's produce of 
grain always in advance, houses to make their 
c;yder, beer, and wine in, and good brick or 
stone warehouses for their several species of 
goods ; constructed distilleries, mills for grind- 
ing, sawing, making oil, and, indeed, for every 
purpose, and machines for manufacturing their 
various materials for clothing and other uses ; 
they had, besides, a store for retailing Philadel- 
phia goods to the country, and nearly 100 
good dwelling-houses of wood, a large stone- 
built tavern, and, as a })roof of superabun- 
dance, a dwelling-house and a meeting-house 
(alias the parsonage and church) which they, 
had neatly built of brick. And, besides all 
these improvements within the society, they did 
a great deal of business, principally in the way 
of manufacturing, for the people of th<* country. 
They worked for them with their ujills and 



PART III.] JOURNAL. ' 485 

machines, some of which did nothing else, and 
their blacksmiths, tailors, shoe-makers, &c. when 
not employed by themselves, were constantly 
at work for their neighbours. Thus this ever- 
lastingly-at-work band of emigrants increased 
their stock before they quitted their first colony, 
to upwards of two hundred thousand dollars, 
from, probably, not one fifth of that sum. What 
will not unceasing perseverance accomplish? 
But, with judgment and order to direct it, what 
in the world can stand against it !* 

920. In comparing the state of this society as 
it now is with what it was in Pennsylvania, it is 
just the same as to plan; the temporal and spi- 
ritual affairs are managed in the same way, and 
upon the same principles, only both are more 
flourishing. Rapp has here brought his disci- 
ples into richer land, and into a situation better 
in every respect, both for carrying on their 
trade, and for keeping to their faith ; their vast 
extent of land is, they say, four feet deep of 
rich mould, nearly the whole of it, and it lies 
along the banks of a fine navigable river on 
one side, while the possibility of much interrup- 
tion from other classes of Christians is effec- 
tually guarded against by an endless barricado 
of woods on the other side. Bringing the means 

• A more detailed account of this society, iip to the year 
1811, will be found in Mr. Mellish's Travels, vol. 2, 



4Q6 JOURNAL. [part hi. 

and experience acquired at their first establish- 
ment, they have of course gone on improving 
and increasing (not in population) at a much 
greater rate. One of their greatest improve- 
ments, they tell me, is the working of their 
mills and manufacturing machines by steam; 
they feel the advantage of this more and more 
every year. They are now preparing to build 
a steam-boat; this is to be employed in their 
traffick with New Orleans, carrying their own 
surplus produce and returning with tea, coffee, 
and other commodities for their own consump- 
tion, and to retail to the people of the country. 
J believe they advance, too, in the way of orna- 
ments and superfluities, for the dwelling-house 
they have now built their pastor, more resem- 
bles a Bishop's Palace than what I should figure 
t» myself as the humble abode of a teacher of 
the " fundamental principles of the Christian 
" Religion." 

921. The government of this society is by 
bands, each consisting of a distinct trade or 
calling. They have a foreman to each band, 
who rules it under the general direction of the 
society, the law-giving power of which is in the 
High Priest. He cannot, however make laws 
without the consent of the parlies. The manu- 
facturing establishment, and the mercantile 
affairs and public accounts are all managed by 



PART in.] JOURNAL. 487 

one person ; he, I believe, is one of the sons of 
Rapp. They have a bank, where a separate 
account is kept for each person ; if any one puts 
in money, or has put in money, he may, on cer- 
tain conditions as to time, take it out again. 
They labour and possess in common; that is to 
say, except where it is not practicable or is im- 
material, as 'with their houses, gardens, cows 
and poultry, which they have to themselves, 
€ach family. They also retain what property 
each may bring on joining the concern, and he 
may demand it in case of leaving the society, 
but without interest. 

022. Here is certainly a wonderful example 
of the effects of skill, industry, and force com- 
bined : this congregation of far-seeing, ingenious, 
crafty, and bold, and of ignorant, simple, su- 
perstitious, and_obedient, Germans, has shown 
what may be done. But, their example, 1 be- 
lieve, will generally only tend to confirm this 
free people m their suspicion that labour is 
concomitant to slavery or ignorance. Instead 
of their improvements, and their success and 
prosperity altogether, producing admiration, if 
not envy, they have a social discipline, the 
thought of which reduces these feelings to ridi- 
cule and contempt : that is to say, with regard 
to the mass; with respect to their leaders, one's 
feelings are apt to be stronger. A fundamental 



488 JOURNAL. [part III. 

of their religious creed ('* restraining clause" a 
Chancery Lawyer would call it) requires re- 
strictions on the propagation of the species ; it 
orders such regulations as are necessary to 
prevent children coming but once in a cer- 
tain number of years; and this matter is so 
arranged that, when they come, they come 
in little flocks, all within the same month, 
perhaps, like a farmer's lambs. The Law- 
giver here made a famously " restraining sta- 
*' tute" upon the law of nature ! This way of 
expounding law seems to be a main point of his 
policy ; he by this means keeps his associates 
from increasing to an unruly number within, 
while more are sure not to come in from with- 
out; and, 1 really am afraid he will go a good 
way towards securing a monopoly of many 
great improvements in agriculture, both as to 
principle and method. People see the fine 
fields of the Harmonites, but, the prospect 
comes damped with the idea ot bondage and 
celibacy. It is a curious society : was ever one 
heard of before that did not wish to increase ! 
This smells strong of policy ; some distinct 
view in the leaders, no doubt. Who would be 
surprized if we were to see a still more curious 
society by and bye? A Socieff/ Sole f very far 
from improbable, if the sons of Rapp (for he 
has children, nevertheless, as well as Parson 



PART III.] JOURNAL. 489 

Mai thus) and the Elders were to die, it not 
being likely that they will renounce or forfeit 
their right to the common stock. We should 
then have societies as well as corporations 
vested in one person ! That would be quite a 
novel kind of benefice! but, not the less fat. 
I question whether the associated person of Mr. 
Rapp would not be in possession of as fine a 
domain and as many good things as the incor- 
porated person of an Archbishop: nay, he 
would rival the Pope ! But, to my journal. 

923. Arrive at Princeton in the evening; a 
good part of our road lay over the fine lands 
of the Harmon ites. I understand, by the bye, 
that the title deeds to these lands are taken in 
the name of Rapp and of his associates. Poor 
associates : if they do but rebel ! Find the same 
store-keepers and tavern-keepers in the same 
attitudes that we left them in the other day. 
Their legs 07dy a little higher than their heads, 
and segars in their mouths ; a fine position for 
business! It puts my friend in mind of the 
Boman posture in dining. 

924. July 3rd. — At Princeton all day. This 
is a pretty considerable place ; very good as to 
buildings ; but, is too much inland to be a 
town of any consequence until the inhabitants 
do that at home which they employ merchants 
and foreign manufactures to do for them. Pay 



490 JOURNAL. [part III. 

1 dollar for a set of old shoes to my horse, half 
the price of new ones. 

925. July Ath. — Leave Princeton ; in the 
evening, reach a place very appropriately called 
Mud-holes, after riding 46 miles over lands in 
general very good but very little cultivated, and 
that little very badly; the latter part of the 
journey in company with a Mr. Jones from 
Kentucky. Nature is the agriculturist here; 
speculation, instead of cultivation, is the order 
of the day amongst men. We feel the ill effects 
of this in the difficulty of getting oats for our 
horses. However, the evil is unavoidable, if 
it really can be called an evil. As well might 
I grumble that farmers have not taken pos- 
session as complain that men of capital have. 
Labour is the thing wanted, but, to have that, 
money must come first. This Mud-holes was 
a sort of fort, not 4 years ago, for guarding 
against the Indians, who then committed great 
depredations, killing whole families often, men, 
women and children. How changeable are the 
affairs of this world ! I have not met with a 
single Indian in the whole course of my route. 

926. July 5tk. — Come to Judge Chambers's, 
a good tavern ; 35 miles. On our way, pass 
French Lick, a strong spring of water impreg- 
nated with salt and sulphur, and called Lick 
from its being resorted to by cattle for the salt; 



PART III.] JOURNAL. 491 

close by this spring is another still larger, of 
fine clear lime-stone water, running fast enough 
to turn a mill. Some of the trees near the 
Judge's exhibit a curious spectacle ; a large 
piece of wood appears totally dead, all the 
leaves brown and the branches broken, from 
being roosted upon lately by an enormous mul- 
titude of pigeons. A novel sight for us, unac- 
customed to the abundance of the back-woods! 
No tavern but this, nor house of any descrip- 
tion, within many miles. 

927. July Qth. — Leave the Judge's, still in 
company with Mr. Jones. Ride 25 miles to 
breakfast, not sooner finding feed for our hor- 
ses ; this was at the dirty log-house of Mr. 

who has a large farm with a grist-mill 

on it, and keeps his yard and stables ancle 
deep in mud and water. If this were not one 
of the healthiest climates in the world, he and 
his family must have died in all this filth. 
About 13 miles further, come to New Albany, 
where we stop at Mr Jenkins's, the best tavern 
we have found in Indiana, that at Harmony 
excepted. 

928. July 7th. — Resting at New Albany. 
We were amused by hearing a Quaker-lady 
preach to the natives. Her first words were 
" all the nations of the earth are of one hlood" 
" So," said I to myself, " this question, which 

2n 



.492 JOURNAL. [part hi. 

" has so long perplexed philosophers, divines 
" and physicians, is now set at rest!" She pro- 
ceeded to vent her rage with great vehemence 
against hireling priests and the trade of preach- 
ing in general, and closed with dealing out 
large portions of brimstone to the drunkard 
and still larger and hotter to those who give 
the bottle to drink. This part of her discourse 
pleased me very much, and may be a saving to 
me into the bargain ; for, the dread of everlast- 
ing roasting added to my love of economy will 
(J think) prevent me making my friends tipsy. 
A very efficacious sermon ! 

929. July Qth. — Jenkins's is a good tavern, 
but it entertains at a high price. Our bill was 
6 dollars each for a day and two nights ; a 
shameful charge. Leave New Albany, cross 
the Ohio, and pass through Louisville in Ken- 
tucky again, on our way to Lexington, the 
capital. Stop for the night at Mr. Netherton's, 
a good tavern. The land hitherto is good, and 
the country altogether healthy, if I may judge 
from the people, who appear more cheerful 
and happy than in Indiana, always excepting 
Harmony. Our landlord is the picture of health 
and strength : 6 feet 4 inches high, weighs 300 
lbs., and not fat. 

930. July Qth.—D'me at Mr. Overton's ta- 
vern, on our way to Frankfort; pay half a 



PART III.] JOURNAL. 493 

dollar each for an excellent dinner, with as 
jnuch brandy and butter-milk as we chose to 
flrink, and good feed for our horses. In the 
afternoon we have the pleasure to be overtaken 
by two ladies on horse-back, and have their 
agreeable company for a mile or two. On 
their turning off from our road we were very 
reluctantly obliged to refuse an obliging invita- 
tion to drink tea at their house, and myself the 
more so, as one of the ladies informed me she 
had married a Mr. Constantine, a gentleman 
from my own native town of Bolton, in Lanca- 
shire. But, we had yet so far to go, and it 
was getting dark. This most healthful mode 
of travelling is universal in the Western States, 
and it gives me great pleasure to see it; though^ 
perhaps, I have to thank the badness of the 
roads as the cause. Arrive at Frankfort, ap- 
parently a thriving town, on the side of the 
rough Kentucky river. The houses are built 
chiefly of brick, and the streets, I understand, 
paved with limestone. Limestone abounds in 
this state, and yet the roads are not good, 
though better than in Indiana and Ohio, for, 
there, there are none. I wonder the govern- 
ments of these states do not set about making 
good roads and bridges, and even canals. I 
pledge myself to be able to shew them how the 
money might be raised, and, moreover, to prove 

2 N 2 



494 JOURNAL. [part III. 

that the expence would be. paid over and over 
again in ahnost no time. Such improvements 
would be income to the governments instead 
of expence, besides being such an incalculable 
benefit to the states. But, at any rate, why 
not roads, and in this state, too, which is* so 
remarkable for its quality of having good road 
materials and rich land together, generally, all 
over it ? 

031. Jul^ 10th. — Leave Frankfort, and come 
through a district of fine land, very well wa- 
tered, to Lexington ; stop at Mr. Keen's tavern. 
Had the good fortune to meet Mr. Clay, who 
carried us to his house, about a mile in the 
country. It is a beautiful residence, situated 
near the centre of a very fine farm, which is 
just cleared and is coming into excellent culti- 
vation. I approve of Mr. Clay's method very 
much, especially in laying down pasture. He 
clears away all the brush or underwood, leav- 
ing timber enough to afl^ord a sufficiency of 
shade to the grass, which does not thrive here 
exposed to the sun, as in England and other 
such climates. By this means he has as fine 
grass and clover as can possibly grow. I could 
not but admire to see this gentleman, possessing 
so much knowledge and of so much weight in 
his country's affairs, so attentively promoting her 
not less important though more silent interests 



PART III.] JOURNAL. 495 

by improving her agriculture. What pleased 
me still more, however, because I less expected 
it, was, to hear Mrs. Clay, in priding herself on 
the state of society, and the rising prosperity of 
the country, citing as a proof the decency and 
affluence of the trades-people and mechanics at 
Lexington, many of whom ride about in their 
own carriages. What a contrast, both in sense 
and in sentiment, between this lady and the 
wives of Legislators (as they are called), in the 
land of the Boroughmongers ! God grant that 
no privileged batch ever rise up in America, 
for then down come the mechanics, are har- 
nessed themselves, and half ridden to death. 

932. July 11^^.— This is the hottest day we 
have had yet. Thermometer at .90 degrees, in 
shade. Met a Mr. Whittemore, from Boston, 
loud in the praise of this climate. He informed 
me he had lately lost his wife and five children 
near Boston, and that he should have lost his 
only remaining child, too, a son now stout and 
healthy, had he not resolved instantly to try 
the air of the west. He is confident that if he 
had taken this step in time he might have saved 
the lives of all his family. This might be, how- 
ever, and yet this climate not better than that 
of Boston. Spent the evening with Colonel 
Morrison, one of the first settlers in this state ; 
a fine looking old gentleman, with colour in 



496 



JOURNAL. [part III. 



his face equal to a London Alderman. The 
people here are pretty generally like that por- 
tion of the people of England who get porridge 
enough to eat ; stout, fat, and ruddy. 

933. July Vlth. — Hotter than yesterday; 
thermometer at 91 degrees. 

934. July X^th. — Leave Lexington; stop at 
Paris, 22 miles. A fine country all the way ; 
good soil, plenty of limestone and no musqui- 
toes. Paris is a healthy town, with a good 
deal of stir; woollen and cotton manufactures 
are carried on here, but upon a small scale. 
They are not near enough to good coal mines 
to do much in that way. What they do, how- 
ever, is well paid for. A spinner told me he 
gets 83 cents per lb. for his twist, which is 33 
cents more than it would fetch at New York. 
Stop at Mr. Timberlake's, a good house. The 
bar-keeper, who comes from England tells me 
that he sailed to Canada, but he is glad he 
had the means to leave Canada and come to 
Kentucky ; he has 300 dollars a year, and 
board and lodging. Made enquiry after young 
Watson, but find he has left this place and is 
gone to Lexington. 

935. The following is a list of the wages and 
prices of the most essential branches of work- 
manship and articles of ctnisumption, as they 
are here at present. 



PART III.] 



JOURNAL. 



497 



50 
25 



Journeymen saddlers' price 
for drawing on men's sad- 
dles 

Journeymen blacksmiths, 

per day 

per month 

Journeymen hatters (ca^^er*) 

Ditto, rorum 

Ditto for finishing, per month 
and found 

Journeymen shoe-makers 

(coarse) 

Ditto, fine . . . . . 
Ditto, for boots . . . 

Journeymen tailors, by the 
coat 

Stone-masons or bricklay- 
ers, per day .... 1 . - 1 50 

Carpenters, per day, and 
found 

Salary for a clerk, per an- 
num 

Beef, per 100 lbs. . . . 

Flour, per barrel .... 

936. Juli/ 14th. — Hot again; 90 degrees. 



Dolls. 


Cents. 


Dolls. U 


*J 


25 to 


2 


1 

25 
1 

I 


25 


1 
30 


30 


• 




1 
3 


75 
25 
25 




5 


• 




1 


. - 


1 


1 


• 




200 
6 
6 


. — 


500 



* Or, 5« 7id to lis 3d. sterling. At the present rate of 
exchange, a dollar is equivalent to 4s. 6d. sterling, and a cent 



is the hundredth part of a dollar. 



498 JOURNAL. [part III- 

Arrive at Blue Licks, close by the fine Lick- 
ing Creek, 22 miles from Paris. Here is a 
sulphur and salt spring like that at French Lick 
in Indiana, which makes this a place of great 
resort in summer for the fashionable svvallowers 
of mineral waters ; the three or four taverns are 
at this time completely crowded. Salt was 
made till latterly at this spring, by an old Scots- 
man ; he now attends the ferry across the Creek. 
Not much to be said for the country round 
here; it is stony and barren, what [ have not 
seen before in Kentucky. 

937. July \6t/i. — To Maysville, or Lime- 
stone, 24 miles. This is a place on the banks 
of the Ohio, and is a sort of port for shipping 
down the river to a great part of that district 
of the state for which Louisville is the shipping 
port to and from New Orleans. Still hot; 90 
degrees again. This is the fifth day; rather 
unusual, this continuance of heat. The hot 
spells as well as the cold spells, seldom last 
more than three days, pretty generally in Ame- 
rica. 

938. July 16th. — Hot still, but a fine breeze 
blowing up the river. Not a bit too hot for 
me, but the natives say it is the hottest weather 
they recollect in this country ; a proof to me 
that this is a mild climate, as to heat, at any 
rate. Saw a cat-fish in the market, just caught 



PART III.] JOURNAL. 41)9 

out of the river by a hook and Ihie, 4 feet long 
and eighty pounds weight, offered for 2 dollars. 
Price of flour, 6 dollars a barrel ; fresh beef, 
6| cents, and butter 20 cents per lb. 

,^39. July Mill. — Set out again, crossing the 
Ohio into the state of that name, and take the 
road to Chillicothe, 74 miles from Maysville. 
Stop about mid-way for the night, travelling 
over a country generally hilly, and not of good 
soil, and passing through West Union, a place 
situated as a town ought to be, upon high and 
unlevel lands ; the inhabitants have fine air to 
breathe, and plenty of food to eat and drink, 
and, if they keep their houses and streets and 
themselves clean, I will ensure them long lives. 
Some pretty good farms in view of the road, 
but many abandoned for the richer lands of 
Indiana and Illinois. Travelling expences 
much less, hitherto, than in Indiana and some 
parts of Kentucky ; we had plenty of good 
butter-milk at the farm houses all along the road, 
free of expence, and the tavern-keepers do not 
set before us bread made of Indian corn, which 
we have not yet learned to like very cordially. 
940. July X^th, — Come to Chillicothe, the 
country improving and more even as we pro- 
ceed. See some very rich lands on passing 
Paint Creek, and on approaching the Scioto 
river; these, like all the bottom lands, having 



500 JOURNAL. [part III. 

a coat of sediment from their river in addition 
to the original soil, are by far the richest. 
Chillicothe is a handsome town, regularly laid 
out, but, stands upon a flat. 1 hate the very 
sight of a level street, unless there be every 
thing necessary to carry off all filth and water. 
The air is very fine, so far as it is not contami- 
nated by the pools of water which stand about 
the town as green as grass. Main sewers, like 
those at Philadelphia, are much wanted. 

941. July 19//*.— Called upon Mr. Bond, 
being introduced by letter, and spent a very 
pleasant evening with him and a large party of 
his agreeable friends. Left them, much pleased 
with the society of Chillicothe. 

942. July 20th. — We were introduced to 
Governor Worthington, who lives about 2 
miles from the town. He took us to his house, 
and showed us part of his fine estate, which is 
800 acres in extent, and all of it elevated table 
land, commanding an immense view over the 
flat country in the direction of Lake Erie. The 
soil is very rich indeed; so rich, that the Go- 
vernor pointed out a dung heap which was 
bigger than the barn it surrounded and had 
grown out of, as a nuisance. The labour of 
dragging the dung out of the way, would be 
more than the cost of removing the barn, so 
that he is actually going to pull the barn down, 



PART III.] JOURNAL. 501 

and build it up again in another place. This 
is not a peculiarity of this particular spot of 
land, for manure has no value here at all. All 
the stable-dung made at Chillicothe is flung 
into the river. J dare say, that the Inn we put 
lip at does not tumble into the water less than 
300 good loads of horse-dung every year. 

943. 1 had some conversation with Governor 
Worthington on the subject of domestic manu- 
factures, and was glad to find he is well con- 
vinced of the necessity of, or at least of the 
great benefit that would result from, the gene- 
ral establishment of them in the United States. 
He has frequently recommended it in his public 
capacity, he informed me, and 1 hope he will ad- 
vocate it with effect. He is a true lover of his 
country, and no man that 1 have met with has 
a more thorough knowledge of the detestable 
villainy of the odious Borough mongering go- 
vernment of England, and, of course, it has 
his full share of hatred. 

944. July ^\st. — Leave Chillicothe. A fine, 
healthy country and very rich land all the way 
to New Lancaster, 34 miles from Chillicothe, 
and 38 from Zanesville. Stop at the house of 
a German, where we slept, but not in bed, 
preferring a soft board and something clean for 
a pillow to a bed of down accompanied with 
bugs. 



502 JOURNAL. [part III. 

945. Nothing remarkable, that 1 can see, as 
to the locality of this town of New Lancaster ; 
but, the name, alas! it brought to my recol- 
lection the horrid deeds done at Old Lancaster, 
the county town of my native county! 1 

thought of Colonel F r, and his conduct 

towards my poor, unfortunate townsman, Gal- 
lant ! 1 thought of the poor, miserable creatures, 
men, women, and children, who, in the bloody 
year of 1812, were first instigated by spies to 
commit arson, and then pursued into death 
by the dealers in human blood. Amongst the 
sufferers, upon this particular occasion, there 
was a boy, who was silly, and who would, at 
any time, have jumped into a pit for a half- 
penny : he was not fourteen years old ; and 
when he was about to be hanged, actually 
called out for his " mammy'' to come and save 
him ! Who, that has a heart in his bosom, can 
help feeling indignation against the cruel mon- 
sters! Who can help feeling a desire to see 
their dreadful power destroyed ! The day must 
come, when the whole of the bloody tragedies 
of Lancashire will be exposed. In the mean 
while, here 1 am in safety from the fangs of the 
monsters, who oppress and grind my country- 
men. The thought of these oppressions, how- 
ever, I carry about with me ; and I cannot help 
its sometimes bursting forth into words. 



PART III.] JOURNAL. 603 

946. July 22nd. — Arrive at Zanesville,* a 
place finely situated for manufactures, in a 
nook of the Muskingham, just opposite to the 
mouth of Licking Creek. It has almost every 
advantage for manufacturing of all sorts, both 
as to local situation and as to materials ; it 
excels Wlieeling and Steubenville, in many 
respects, and, in some, even Pittsburgh. The 
river gives very fine falls near the town, one of 
them of 1 2 feet, where it is 600 feet wide ; the 
creek, too, falls in by a fine cascade. What 
a power for machinery ! 1 should think that as 
much effect might be produced by the power 
here afforded as by the united manual labour 
of all the inhabitants of the state. The naviga- 
tion is very good all the way up to the town, 
and is now continued round the falls by a 
canal with locks, so that boats can go nearly 
close up to Lake Erie. The bowels of the 
earth afford coal, iron ore, stone, free stone, 
lime-stone, and clays : all of the best, I believe, 
and the last, the very best yet discovered in 
this country, and, perhaps, as good as is to 
be found in any country. All these materials 
are found in inexhaustible quantities in the hills 



* For a more particular account of this place, as well, in- 
deed, as of most of the other towns I have visited, see Mr, 
Mellish's Travels, vol. ii. 



504 JOURNAL. [part III. 

and little ridges on the sides of the river and 
creek, arranged as if placed by the hand of 
man for his own use. In short, this place has 
the four elements in the greatest perfection that 
,1 have any where yet seen in America. As to 
manufactures, it is, Hke Wheeling and Steu- 
benville, nothing in comparison to Pittsburgh. 

947. Nature has done her part ; nothing is 
left wanting but machines to enable the peo- 
ple of Ohio to keep their flour at home, instead 
of exporting it, at their own ex pence, to sup- 
port those abroad who are industrious enough 
to send them back coats, knives, and cups and 
saucers. : 

948. July 23rc?.— All day at Zanesville. 
Spent part of it very agreeably with Mr. Adams 
the post-master, and old Mr. Dillon who has a 
large iron foundery near this. 

949. July 24th.— Go with Mr. Dillon about 
3 miles up the Creek, to see his mills and 
iron-factory establishment. He has here a very 
fine water-fall, of 18 feet, giving immense power, 
by which he works a large iron-forge and foun- 
dery, and mills for sawing, grinding, and other 
purposes. 

950. I will here subjoin a list of the prices at 
Zanesville, of provisions, stock, stores, labour, 
&c., just as I have it from a resident, whom I 
can rely upon. 



PART III.] 



JOURNAL. 



505 



Flour (superfine), per barrel 

of 196 lbs. from . . . 
Beef, per 100 lbs. . . . 
Pork (prime), per 100 lbs. 
Salt, per bushel of 50 lbs. 
Potatoes, per bushel . . 

Turnips, ditto 

Wheat, do. of 60 lbs. to 66 

lbs 

Indian Corn, ditto, shelled 

Oats, ditto 

Rye, ditto 

Barley ditto 

Turkeys, of from 12 lbs. to 

20 lbs. each 

Fowls 

Live Hogs, per 100 lbs. live 

weight 

Cows (the best) . . . . 
Yoke of Oxen, ditto , . 

Sheep 

Hay, per ton, delivered 
Straw, fetch it and have it. 
Manure, ditto, ditto. 
Coals, per bushel, delivered 
Butter, per lb. avoirdupois 
Cheese, ditto, ditto . . . 

Loaf Sugar 

Raw ditto 



Dolls. 

5 
4 
4 

2 



3 

18 

50 

2 

9 



Cents. 

.to 

50 - 
25 

25 - 
20 

75 

33f- 
25 - 
50 
75 

37i- 
12i- 



Dolls. Cents 



50 



8 
12i— 
12i- 
50 
3U 



5 
25 
75 

10 



75 
25 



3U 



50 
33f 



50 
181 



181 
25 



506 



JOURNAL. 



[part III, 



Domestic Raw ditto . . 

Merino Wool, per lb. avoir- 
dupois, washed . . 

Three-quarter Merino ditto 

Common Wool . . . . 

Bricks, per 1000, delivered 

Lime, per bushel, ditto . . 

Sand, in abundance on the 
banks of the river. 

Glass is sold in boxes, con- 
taining 100 square feet; 
of the common size there 
are 180 panes in a box, 
when the price is . . 
The price rises in propor- 
tion to the size of the 
panes. 

Oak planks, J inch thick, 
per 100 square feet, at 
the saw-mill 

Poplar, the same. 

White Lead, per 100 lbs. 
delivered 

Red ditto 

Litharge 

Pig Lead 

Swedish Iron (the best, in 
bars) 

Juniatta, ditto, ditto . . . 



DoUs. 



14 



17 

17 

15 

9 

14 
14 



Cftots. 

181 



75 
50 

. to 
181 



Dolls. 



50 



50 



PART III.] 



JOURNAL. 



507 



Mr. Dillon's ditto, ditto . 

Castings at Mr. Dillon's 
Foundery, per ton . . 

Ditto, for machinery, ditto, 
per lb 

Potash, per ton .... 

Pearl Ashes, ditto . . . 

Stone masons and brick- 
layers, per day, and 
board and lodging . . 

Plasterers, by the square 
yard, they finding them- 
selves in board and lodg- 
ing and in lime, sand, 
laths and everything they 
use 

Carpenters, by the day, who 
find themselves and bring 
their tools 

Blacksmiths, by the month, 
and found in board, lodg- 
ing and tools .... 

Millwrights, per day, find- 
ing themselves .... 

Tailors, per week, finding 

themselves and working 

14 or 15 hours a day . . 

Shoemakers, the same. 

2 o 



DoUs. 

12 



120 



Cents 

50 



DolU. Cents. 



180 
200 



30 
1 



50 



181 

25 

. to 
50- 



40 
2 

9 



508 



JOURNAL. 



[part III. 



Glazier's charge for putting 
in each pane of glass 8 in. 
by 10 in. with their own 
putty and laying on the 
first coat of paint . . . 

Labourers, per annum, and 
found 

The charge of carriage for 
100 lbs. weight from Bal- 
timore to Zanesville . . 

Ditto for ditto by steam- 
boat from New Orleans to 
Shippingport, and thence 
by boats, to Zanesville, 
about 

Peaches, as fine as 
grow, per bushel . 



can 



Dolls. 


Cents 

4 to 


Dolls. 


100 


. - 


120 


10 


• 




6 


50 





t> 



25 



Apples and Pears proportion ably cheaper ; some- 
times given away, in the country. 



951. Prices are much about the same at 
Steubenville ; if any difference, rather lower. 
If bought in a quantity, some of the arti- 
cles enumerated might be had a good deal 
lower. Labour, no doubt, if a job of some 
length were offered, might be got somewhat 
cheaper, here. 



PART III.] JOURNAL. 509 

952. July 26th. — Leave Zanesville for Pitts- 
burg, keeping to the United States road ; stop 
at Cambridge, 25 miles. Diiring the first eight 
miles we met 10 waggons, loaded with emi- 
grants. 

953. July 26ih. — Stop at Mr. Broadshaw's, a 
very good house on the road, 25 miles from Cam- 
bridge. This general government road is by 
no means well laid out; it goes straight over 
the tops of the numerous little hills, up and 
down, up and down. It would have been a 
great deal nearer in point of time, if not in dis- 
tance (though I think it would that, too), if a 
view had been had to the labour of travelling 
over these everlasting unevennesses. 

954. July 27th. — To Wheeling in Virginia, 
31 miles. They have had tremendous rains in 
these parts, we hear as we pass along, lately; 
one of the creeks we came over has overflown 
so as to carry down a man's house with him- 
self and his whole family. A dreadful catas- 
trophe, but, certainly, one not out of the man's 
power to have foreseen and prevented ; it sur- 
prizes me that the people will stick up their 
houses so near the water's edge. Cross Wheel- 
ing Creek several times to-day; it is a rapid 
stream, and I hope it will not be long before it 
turns many water-wheels. See much good 
land, and some pretty good farming. 

2o2 



510 JOURNAL. [part III. 

955. July 28^A.— Went with a Mr. Graham, 
a Quaker of this place, who treated us in the 
most friendly and hospitable manner, to see the 
new national road from Washington city to this 
town. It is covered with a very thick layer of 
nicely broken stones, or stone, rather, laid on 
with great exactness both as to depth and 
width, and then rolled down with an iron roller, 
which reduces all to one solid mass. This is a 
road made for ever ; not like the flint roads in 
England, rough, nor soft or dirty, like the gra- 
vel roads ; but, smooth and hard. When a 
road is made in America it is ivell made. An 
American always plots against labour, and, in 
this instance, betakes the most effectual course 
to circumvent it. Mr. Graham took us like- 
wise to see the fine coal mines near this place 
and the beds of limestone and freestone, none 
of which I had time to examine as we passed 
Wheeling in our ark. All these treasures lie 
very convenient to the river. The coals are 
principally in one long ridge, about 10 ieet 
wide ; much the same as they are at Pittsburgh, 
in point of quality and situation. They cost 
3 cents per bushel to be got out from the mine. 
This price, as nearly as 1 can calculate, enables 
the Ameiican collier to earn, upon an average, 
louble the number of cents for the same labour 
that the collier in England can earn; so that, 



PART III.] JOURNAL. 511 

as the American collier can, upon an average, 
buy his flour for one third of the price that the 
English collier pays for his flour, he receives 
six times the quantity/ of flour for the same la- 
hour. Here is a country for the ingenious pau- 
pers of England to come to ! They find food 
and materials, and nothing wanting but their 
mouths and hands to consume and work them. 
I should like to see the old toast of the Bo- 
roughmongers brought out again; when they 
were in the height of their impudence their 
myrmidons used to din in our ears, " Old Eng- 
" land for ever, and those that do not like her 
" let them leave her." Let them renew this 
swaggering toast, and I would very willingly 
for my part, give another to the same effect for 
the United States of America. But, no, no ! 
they know better now. They know that they 
would be taken at their word; and, like the 
tyrants of Egypt, having got their slaves fast, 
will (if they can) keep them so. Let them be- 
ware, lest something worse than the Red Sea 
overwhelm them ! Like Pharaoh and his Bo- 
roughmongers they will not yield to the voice 
of the people, and, surely, something like, or 
worse than, their fate shall befall them ! 

956. They are building a steam-boat at Wheel- 
ing, which is to go, they say, 1800 miles up the 
Missouri river. The wheels are made to work 



512 JOURNAL. [part 111. 

in the stern of the boat, so as not to come in 
contact with the floating trees, snaggs, planters,* 
&c., obstructions most likely very numerous in. 
that river. But, the placing the wheels behind 
only saves them ; it is no protection against the 
hoafs sinking in case of being pierced by a 
planter or sawyer.f Observing this, I will sug- 
gest a plan which has occurred to me, and 
which, J think, would provide against sinking, 
effectually ; but, at any rate, it is one which can 
be tried very easily and with very little expence. 
— I would make a partition of strong plank; 
put it in the broadest fore-part of the boat, right 
across, and put good iron bolts under the bot- 
tom of the boat, through these planks, and 
screw them on the top of the deck. Then put 
an upright post in the inside of the boat against 
the middle of the plank partition, and put a 
spur to the upright post. The partition should 
be water-tight. I would then load the fore- 
part of the boat, thus partitioned off, with lum- 
ber or such loading as is least liable to injury, 
and best calculated to stop the progress of a 
sawyer after it has gone through the boat. — By 
thus appropriating the fore-part of the boat to 
the reception of planters and sawyers, it ap- 

* Trees lunnbled head-long and fixed in the river, 
t The same as a planter, only waving up and down. 



PART III.] JOURNAL. 513 

pears to me that the other part would be se- 
cured against all intrusion. 

957. July Wth. — From Wheeling, through 
Charlston, changing sides of the river again to 
Steubenville. My eyes were delighted at Charls- 
ton to see the smoke of the coals ascending from 
the glass-works they have here. This smoke it 
is that must enrich America; she might save 
almost all her dollars if she would but bring 
her invaluable black diamonds into service. 
Talk of independence, indeed, without coats to 
wear or knives or plates to eat with ! 

958. At Steubenville, became acquainted 
with Messrs. Wills, Ross, and company, who 
have an excellent and well-conducted woollen 
manufactory here. They make very good 
cloths, and at reasonable prices; 1 am sorry 
they do not retail them at Philadelphia ; I, for 
one, should be customer to them for all that 
my family wanted in the woollen-way. Here are 
likewise a Cotton-mill, a Grist-mill, a Paper- 
mill, an Iron-foundery and Tan -yards and 
Breweries. Had the pleasure to see Mr. Wil- 
son, the editor of the Steubenville Gazette, a 
very public-spirited man, and, I believe, very 
serviceable to this part of the country. If the 
policy he so powerfully advocates were adopted, 
the effects would be grand for America; it 
would save her dollars while it would help to 



514 JOURNAL. [part III". 

draw tlie nails of the vile Borongliinongers. 
But, he has to labour against the inveterate 
effects of the thing the most difficult of all 
others to move — habit. 

9»59. By what 1 have been able to observe of 
this part of the country, those who expect to 
find what is generally understood by society, 
pretty much the same that they have been ac- 
customed to it on the Atlantic side, or in Eng- 
land, will not be totally disappointed. It is 
here upon the basis of the same manners and 
customs as in the oldest settled districts, and it 
there differs from what it is in England, and 
here from what it is there, only according to 
circumstances. Few of the social amusements 
that are practicable at present, are scarce; 
dancing, the most rational for every reason, is 
the most common ; and, in an assemblage for 
this purpose, composed of the farmers' daugh- 
ters and sons from 20 miles round, an English- 
man (particularly if a young one) might very 
well think his travels to be all a dream, and that 
he was still in a Boroughmonger country. Al- 
most always the same tunes and dances, same 
manners, same dress. Ah, it is that same 
dress which is the great evil ! it may be a very 
pretty sight, but, to see the dollars thus danced 
out of the country into the hands of the Bo- 
roughmongers, to the tune of national airs, is a 



PART III.] JOURNAL. 515 

thing which, if it do not warrant ridicule, will, 
if America do not, by one unanimous voice, 
soon put a stop to it. 

960. Jtdi/oOth. — From Steubenville, crossing 
the Ohio for the last time, and travelling through 
a slip of Virginia and a handsome part of Penn- 
sylvania, to Pittsburgh. 

961. August [St.— Sold my horse for 75 
dollars, 60 dollars less than I gave for him. 
A horse changes masters no where so often as 
in this Western country, and no where so often 
rises and falls in value. Met a Mr. Gibbs, a 
native of Scotland, and an old neighbour of 
mine, having superintended some oil of vitriol 
works near to my bleach-works on Great Lever, 
near Bolton, in Lancashire. He now makes 
oil of vitriol, aquafortis, salts, soap, &c. at this 
place, and is, 1 believe, getting rich. Spent a 
pleasant evening with him. 

962. August 2nd. — Spent most part of the 
day with Mr. Gibbs, and dined with him; as 
the feast was his, J recommended him to ob- 
serve the latter part of the good Quaker Lady's 
sermon which we heard at New Albany. 

963. August Zrd. — Leave Pittsburgh, not 
without some regretat bidding adieu to so much 
activity and smoke, for I expect not to see it 
elsewhere. 1 like to contemplate the operation 
by which the greatest effect is produced in a 



516 JOURNAL. [part III. 

country. Take the same route and the same 
stage as on sefcting out from Philadelphia. 

964. August 4t/i, 5t/i, and 6th. — These three 
days traversing the romantic Allegany Moun- 
tains ; got overturned (a common accident here) 
onl^ once, and then received very little damage : 
myself none, some of my fellow travellers a few 
scratches. We scrambled out, and, with the 
help of some waggoners, set the vehicle on its 
wheels again, adjusted our *' plunder" (as 
some of the Western people call it), and drove 
on again without being detained more than five 
minutes. The fourth night slept at Chambers- 
burgh, the beginning of a fine country. 

965. Auo-ust 1th. — Travelled over the fine lime- 
stone valley before mentioned, and through a 
very good country all the way, by Little York to 
Lancaster. Here ] met with a person from 
Philadelphia, who told me a long story about a 
Mr. Hulme, an Englishman, who had brought 
a large family and considerable property to 
America. His property, he told me, the said 
Mr. Hulme had got from the English Govern- 
ment, for the invention of some machine, and 
that now, having got rich under their patronage, 
he was going about this country doing the said 
Government all the mischief he could, and en- 
deavouring to promote the interests of this 
country. After letting him go o» till I was^ 



PART III.] JOURNAL. 517 

quite satisfied that he depends mainly for his 
bread and butter upon the English Treasury, I 
said, " Well, do you know this Mr. Hulme?" 
" No, he had only heard of him." *' Then I 
" do, and 1 know that he never had any patent, 
" nor ever asked for one, from the English go- 
" vernraent ; ail he has got he has gained by 
" his own industry and economy, and, so far 
" from receiving a fortune from that vile go- 
" vernment, he had nothing to do with it but 
" to pay and obey, without being allowed to 
" give a vote for a Member of Parliament or 
" for any Government Officer. He is now, 
" thank God, in a country where he cannot be 
" taxed but by his own consent, and, if he 
" should succeed in contributing in any degree 
" to the downfall of the English Government, 
" and to the improvement of this country, he 
" will only succeed in doing his duty." This 
man could be no other than a dependent of 
that boroughmongering system which has its 
feelers probing every quarter and corner of the 
earth. 

966. August Sth. — Return to Philadelphia, 
after a journey of 72 days. My expences for 
this journey, including every thing, not except- 
ing the loss sustained by the purchase and sale 
of my horse, amount to 270 dollars and 70 
cents. 



518 JOURNAL. [part III. 

967. As it is now about a twelvemonth since 
I have been settled in Philadelphia, or set fool 
in it, rather, with my family, I will take a look 
at my books, and add to this Journal what have 
been the expences of my family for this one 
year, from the time of landing to this day, in- 
clusive. " Dolls. Cents. 

House-rent 600 

Fuel 137 

Schooling (at day-schools) 
for my children viz. ; for doi,,. 
Thomas, 14 years of age 40 
Peter and John, ages of 

12 and 10, 48 

Sarah, 6 years of age, . 18 — 106 

Boarding of all my family at Mrs. 
Anthony's Hotel for about a 
week, on our arrival ... 80 

Expences of house-keeping (my 
family fourteen in number, in- 
cluding two servants) with 
every other out-going not enu- 
merated above, travelling, inci- 
dents, two newspapers a day, 
&C.&C 2076 66 

Taxes, not a cent 

Priest, not a cent 

Total 2999 66 



PART III.] JOUJINAL. ^^9 

968. " What! nothing to the Parson!" some 
of my old neighbours will exclaim. No : not a 
single stiver. The Quakers manage their affairs 
without Parsons, and I believe they are as good 
and as happy a people as any religious denomi- 
nation who are aided and assisted by a Priest. I 
do not suppose that the Quakers will admit me 
into their Society; but, in this free country I can 
form a new society, if I choose, and, if 1 do, it 
certainly shall be a Society having a Chairman 
in place of a Parson, and the assemblage shall 
discuss the subject of their meeting themselves. 
Why should there not be as much knowledge 
and wisdom and common sense, in the heads of 
a whole congregation, as in the head of a Par- 
son ? Ah, but then there are the profits arising 
from the trade! Some of this holy Order in 
England receive upwards of 40,000 dollars per 
annum for preaching probably not more than five 
or six sermons during the whole year. Well 
may the Cossack Priests represent Old England 
as the bulwark of religion ! This is the sort of 
religion they so much dreaded the loss of 
during the French Revolution ; and this is the 
sort of religion they so zealously expected to 
establish in America, when they received the 
glad tidings of the restoration of the Bourbon!«: 
and the Pope. 

END OF THE JOURNAL. 



520 LETTER TO [PART III. 

TO 

MORRIS BIRKBECK, Esq. 

OF 

ENGLISH PRAIRIE, ILLINOIS TERRITORY. 



North Hentpstead, Long Island, 
10 Dec. 1818. 

My Dear Sir, 

969. I HAVE read your two little books, 
namely, the " Notes on a Journey in America,' 
" and the Letters from the Illinois'' I opened 
the books, and I proceeded in the perusal, with 
fear and trembling; not because I supposed 
it possible for you to put forth an hitended im- 
position on the world ; but, because I had a 
sincere respect for the character and talents of 
the writer; and because I knew how enchanting 
and delusive are the prospects of enthusiastic 
minds, when bent on grand territorial acquisi- 
tions. 

970. My apprehensions were, I am sorry to 
have it to say, but too well founded. Your 
books, written, I am sure, without any intention 
to deceive and decoy, and without any even the 
smallest tincture of base self-interest, are, in 



PART III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 521 

my opinion, calculated to produce great disap- 
pointment, not to say misery and ruin, amongst 
our own country people (for I will, in spite of 
your disavowal, still claim the honour of having 
you for a countryman), and great injury ,to 
America by sending back to Europe accounts 
of that disappointment, misery, and ruin. 

971. It is very true, that you decline advising 
any one to go to the Illinois, and it is also 
true, that your description of the hardships you 
encountered is very candid ; but still, there 
runs throughout the whole of your Notes such 
an account as to the prospect, that is to say, the 
ultimate effect, that the book is, without your 
either wishing or perceiving it, calculated to 
deceive and decoy. You do indeed describe 
difficulties and hardships : but, then, you over- 
come them all with so much ease and gaiety, 
that you make them disregarded by your Eng- 
lish readers, who, sitting by their fire-sides, and 
feeling nothing but the gripe of the Borough- 
mongers and the tax-gatherer, merely cast a 
glance at your hardships and fully participate 
in all your enthusiasm. You do indeed fairly 
describe the rugged roads, the dirty hovels, the 
fire in the woods to sleep by, the pathless ways 
through the wildernesses, the dangerous cross- 
ings of the rivers; but, there are the beautiful 
meadows and rich lands at last; there is the 



522 LETTER TO [pART fll. 

Jine freehold domain at the end! There are the 
giants and the enchanters to encounter; the 
slashings and the rib-roastings to undergo ; but 
then, there is, at last, the lovely languishing 
damsel to repay the adventurer. 

972. The whole of your writings relative to 
your undertaking, address themselves directly 
to English Farmers, who have property to the 
amount of two or three thousand pounds, or 
upwards. Persons of this description are, not 
by your express words, but by the natural ten- 
dency of your writings, invited, nay, strongly 
invited, to emigrate with their property to the 
Illinois Territory. Many have already acted 
upon the invitation. Many others are about to 
follow them. I am convinced, that their doing 
this is unwise, and greatly injurious, not only 
to them, but to the character of America as a 
country to emigrate to, and, as 1 have, in the 
first Part of this work, promised to give, as far 
as I am able, a true account of America, it is 
my duty to state the reasons on which this con- 
viction is founded ; and, I address the statement 
to you, in order, that, if you find it erroneous, 
you may, in the like public manner, show 
wherein I have committed error. 

973. We are speaking, my dear Sir, of Eng- 
lish Farmers possessing each two or three 
thousand pounds sterling. And, before we 



PART III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 523 

proceed to inquire, whether such persons ought 
to emigrate to the West or to the East, it may 
not be amiss to inquire a little, whether they 
ought to emigrate at all! Do not start, now! 
For, while I am very certain that the emigration 
oi such persons is not, in the end, calculated to 
produce benefit to America, as a nation, I 
greatly doubt of its being, generally speaking, 
of any benefit to the emigrants themselves, if we 
take into view the chances of their speedy relief 
at home. 

974. Persons of advanced age, of settled 
habits, of deep rooted prejudices, of settled ac- 
quaintances, of contracted sphere of movement, 
do not, to use Mr. George Flower's expres- 
sion, " transplant well." Of all such persons, 
Farmers transplant worst ; and, of all Farmers, 
English Farmers are the worst to transplant. 
Of some of the tears, shed in the Illinois, an 
account reached me several months ago, through 
an eye-witness of perfect veracity, and a very 
sincere friend of freedom, and of you, and 
whose information was given me, unasked for, 
and in the presence of several Englishmen, 
every one of whom, as well as myself, most ar- 
dently wished you success. 

975. It is nothing, my dear Sir, to say, as you 
do, in the Preface to the Letters from the Illi- 
nois, that, " as little would I encourage the 

2p 



524 LETTER TO [PART III. 

*' emigration of the tribe of grumblers, people 
" who are petulant and discontented under the 
" every-day evils of life. Life has its petty 
" miseries in all situations and climates, to be 
" mitigated or cured by the continual efforts of 
" an elastic spirit, or to be borne, if incurable, 
" with cheerful patience. But the peevish emi- 
" grant is perpetually comparing the comforts 
" he has quitted, but never could enjoy, with 
*' the privations of his new allotment. He over- 
" looks the present good, and broods over the 
*' evil with habitual perverseness; whilst in the 
" recollection of the past, he dwells on the 
*' good only. Such people are always bad as- 
*' sociates, but they are an especial nuisance in 
" an infant colony." 

976. Give me leave to say, my dear Sir, that 
there is too much asperity in this language, con- 
sidering who were the objects of the censure. 
Nor do you appear to me to afford, in this in- 
stance, a very happy illustration of the absence 
of that peevishness, which you perceive in 
others, and for the yielding to which you call 
them a nuisance ; an appellation much too harsh 
for the object and for the occasion. If you, 
with all your elasticity of spirit, all your ardour 
of pursuit, all your compensations of fortune in 
prospect, and all your gratifications of fame in 
possession, cannot with patience hear the wail- 



PART III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 525 

ings of some of your neighbours, into what 
source are they to dip for the waters of content 
and good-humour? 

977. It is no " every-day evil" that they have 
to bear. For an English Farmer, and, more 
especially, an English Farmer's wife, after 
crossing the sea and travelling to the Illinois, 
with the consciousness of having expended a 
third of their substance, to purchase, as yet, 
nothing but sufferings ; for such persons to boil 
their pot in the gipsy-fashion, to have a mere 
board to eat on, to drink whisky or pure water, 
to sit and sleep under a shed far inferior to their 
English cow-pens, to have a mill at twenty 
miles distance, an apothecary's shop at a hun- 
dred, and a doctor no w^here: these, my dear 
Sir, are not, to such people^ *' every-day evils of 
" life." You, though in your little " cabin," 
have your books, you have your name circulat- 
ing in the world, you have it to be given, by and 
bye, to a city or a county ; and, if you fail of 
brilliant success, you have still a sufficiency of 
fortune to secure you a safe retreat. Almost 
the whole of your neighbours must be destitute 
of all these sources of comfort, hope, and con- 
solation. As they now are, their change is, and 
must be, for the worse; and, as to the future, 
besides the uncertainty attendant, every where, 
on that which is to come, they ought to be ex- 
2 p2 



526 LETTER TO [PART III. 

cused, if they, at their age, despair of seeing 
days as happy as those that they have seen. 

978. It were much better for suck people not 
to emigrate at all ; for while they are sure to 
come into a state of some degree of suffering, 
they leave behind them the chance of happy 
days ; and, in my opinion, a certainty of such 
days. I think it next to impossible for any man 
of tolerable information to believe, that the pre- 
sent tyranny of the seat-owners can last another 
two years. As to what change will take place, 
it would, perhaps, be hard to say : but, that 
some great change will come is certain ; and, it 
is also certain, that the change must he for the 
better. Indeed, one of the motives for the emi- 
gration of many is said to be, that they think a 
convulsion inevitable. Why should such per- 
sons as I am speaking of fear a convulsion? 
Why should they suppose, that they will suffer 
by a convulsion ? What have they done to pro- 
voke the rage of the blanketteers ? Do they 
think that their countrymen, all but themselves, 
will be transformed into prowling wolves ? This 
is precisely what the Boroughmongers wish 
them to believe; and, believing it, they Jlee in- 
stead of remaining to assist to keep the people 
down, as the Boroughmongers wish them to do. 

979. Being here, however, they, as you say, 
think only of the good they have left behind 



PART III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 527 

them, and of the had they find here. This is no 
fault of theirs : it is the natural course of the 
human mind; and this you ought to have 
known. You yourself acknowledge, that Eng- 
land " was never so dear to you as it is notv in 
*' recollection: being no longer under its base 
*' oligarchy, I can think of my native country 
*' and her noble institutions, apart from her poli- 
*' tics" I may ask you, by the way, what noble 
institutions she has, which are not of a political 
nature ? Say the oppressions of her tyrants^ say 
that you can think of her and love her renown 
and her famous political institutions, apart from 
those oppressions, and then 1 go with you with 
all my heart ; but, so thinking, and so feeling, 
I cannot say with you, in your Notes, that 
England is to me " matter of history " nor with 
you, in your Letters from the Illinois, 
that " where liberty is, there is my country." 

980. But, leaving this matter, for the present, 
if English Farmers must emigrate, why should 
they encowiitev unnecessary difficulties? Coming 
from a country like a garden, why should they 
not stop in another somewhat resembling that 
which they have lived in before? Why should 
they, at an expence amounting to a large part of 
what they possess, prowl two thousand miles 
at the hazard of their limbs and lives, take wo- 
men and children through scenes of hardship 



528 LETTER TO [pART III. 

and distress not easily described, and that too, 
to live like gipsies at the end of their journey, 
for, at least, a year or two, and, as I think I 
shall show, without the smallest chance of their 
finally doing so well as they may do in these 
Atlantic States? Why should an English Farmer 
and his family, who have always been jogging 
about a snug home-stead, eating regular meals, 
and sleeping in warm rooms, push back to the 
Illinois, and encounter those hardships, which 
require all the habitual disregard of comfort of 
an American back-woods-man to overcome? 
Why should they do this? The undertaking is 
hardly reconcileable to reason in an Atlantic 
American Farmer who has half a dozen sons, 
all brought up to use the axe, the saw, the 
chisel and the hammer from their infancy, and 
every one of whom is ploughman, carpenter, 
wheelwright and butcher, and can work from 
sun-rise to sun-set, and sleep, if need be, upon 
the bare boards. What, then, must it be in an 
English Farmer and his family of helpless mor- 
tals? Helpless, I mean, in this scene of such 
novelty and such difficulty? And what is his 
wife to do ; she who has been torn from all her 
relations and neighbours, and from every thing 
that she liked in the world, and who, perhaps, 
has never, in all her life before, been ten miles 
from the cradle in which she was nursed? An 



PART III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 529 

American farmer mends his plough, his wag- 
gon, his tackle of all sorts, his household goods, 
his shoes ; and, if need be, he makes them all. 
Can our people do all this, or any part of it? 
Can they live without bread for months ? Can 
they live without beer ? Can they be otherwise 
than miserable, cut off, as they must be, from all 
intercourse with, and hope of hearing of, their re- 
lations and friends? The truth is, that this is 
not transplanting, it is tearing up and flinging 
away. 

981. Society I What society can these people 
have? 'Tis true they have nobody to envy, for 
nobody can have any thing to enjoy. But there 
may be, and there must be, mutual complain- 
ings and upbraidings; and every unhappiness will 
be traced directly to him who has been, however 
unintentionally, the cause of the unhappy per- 
son's removal. The very foundation of your 
plan necessarily contained the seeds of discon- 
tent and ill-will. A colony all from the same 
country was the very worst project that could 
have been fallen upon. You took upon your- 
self the charge of Moses without being invested 
with any part of his authority; and absolute as 
this was, he found the charge so heavy, that he 
called upon the Lord to share it with him, or to 
relieve him from it altogether. Soon after you 
went out, an Unitarian Priest, upon my asking 



530 LETTER TO [PART III. 

what you were going to do in that wild coun- 
try, said, you were going to form a community, 
who would be *' content to worship one God.'' 
" I hope not," said I, " for he will have plagues 
" enough without adding a priest to the num- 
" ber." But, perhaps, 1 was wrong: for Aaron 
was of great assistance to the leader of the Is- 
raelites. 

.982. As if the inevitable effects of disappoint- 
ment and hardship were not sufficient, you 
had, too, a sort of partnership in the leaders. 
This is sure to produce feuds and bitterness in 
the long run. Partnership-sovereignties have 
furnished the world with numerous instances 
of poisonings and banishments and rottings in 
prison. It is as much as merchants, who post 
their books every Sunday, can do to get along 
without quarrelling. Of man and wife, though 
they are flesh of flesh and bone of bone, the 
harmony is not always quite perfect, except in 
France, where the husband is the servant, and 
in Germany and Prussia, where the wife is the 
slave. But, as for a partnership sovereignty 
without disagreement, there is but one single in- 
stance upon record ; that, I mean, was of the two 
kings of Brentford, whose cordiality was, you 
know, so perfect, that they both smelt to the 
same nosegay. This is, my dear Sir, no ban- 
tering. I am quite serious. It is impossible 



PART III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 531 

that separations should not take place, and 
equally impossible that the neighbourhood 
should not be miserable. This is not the way 
to settle in America. The way is, to go and 
sit yourself dov'n amongst the natives. They 
are already settled. They can lend you what 
you want to borrow, and happy they are al- 
ways to do it. And, which is the great thing 
of all great things, you have their women for 
your women to commune with ! 

983. Rapp, indeed, has done great things; 
but Rapp has the authority of Moses and that 
of Aaron united in his own person. Besides, 
Rapp's community observe in reality that celi- 
bacy, which Monks and Nuns pretend to, 
though I am not going to take my oath, mind, 
that none of the tricks of the Convent are ever 
played in the tabernacles of Harmony. At any 
rate, Rapp secures the effects of celibacy ; first, 
an absence of the expence attendmg the breed- 
ing and rearing of children, and, second, unre- 
mitted labour of woman as well as man. But, 
where, in all the world is the match of this to 
be found? Where else shall we look for a 
Society composed of persons willing and able 
to forego the gratification of the most powerful 
propensity of nature, for the sake of getting 
money together? Where else shall we look for 
a band of men and women who love money 



532 LETTER TO [PART III. 

better than their own bodies? Better than 
their souls we find people enough to love mo- 
ney; but, who ever before heard of a set that 
preferred the love of money to that of their 
bodies ? Who, before, ever conceived the idea 
of putting a stop to the procreation of children, 
for the sake of saving the expence of bearing 
and breeding them ? This Society, which is a 
perfect j)rodigy and monster, ought to have the 
image of MAMMON in their place of worship ; 
for that is the object of their devotion, and not 
the God of nature. Yet the persons belonging 
to this unnatural association are your nearest 
neighbours. The masculine things here, called 
women, who have imposed barrenness on them- 
selves, out of a pure love of gain, are the nearest 
neighbours of the affectionate, tender-hearted 
wives and mothers and daughters, who are to 
inhabit your colony, and who are, let us thank 
God, the very reverse of the petticoated Ger- 
mans of Harmony. 

984. In such a situation, with so many cir- 
cumstances to annoy, what happiness can an 
English family enjoy in that country, so far 
distant from all that resembles what they have 
left behind them? " The fair Enchantress, 
" Liberty^' of whom you speak with not too 
much rapture, they would have found in any 
of these States, and, in a garb, too, by which 



PART III.] MORRIS BTRKBECK, ESQ. 533 

they would have recognised her. Where they 
now are, they are free indeed ; but their free- 
dom is that of the wild animals in your woods. 
It is not freedom, it is no government. The 
Gipsies, in England, are free ; and any one, 
who has a mind to live in a cave, or cabin, in 
some hidden recess of our Hampshire forests, 
may be free too. The English farmer, in the 
Illinois, is, indeed, beyond the reach of the 
Boroughmongers ; and so is the man that is in 
the grave. When it was first proposed, in the 
English Ministry, to drop quietly the title of 
King of France in the enumeration of our 
king's titles, and, when it was stated to be an 
expedient lihely to tend to a peace, Mr. Wind- 
ham, who was then a member of the Cabinet, 
said : " As this is a measure of safety, and as, 
" doubtless, we shall hear of others of the same 
" cast, what think you of going under ground 
" at once ?"" It was a remark enough to cut the 
liver out of the hearers ; but Pitt and his asso- 
ciates had no livers. I do not believe, that any 
twelve Journeymen, or Labourers, in England 
would have voted for the adoption of this mean 
and despicable measure. 

985. If, indeed, the Illinois were the only 
place out of the reach of the Borough-grasp ; 
and, if men are resolved to get out of that 
reach ; then, 1 should say. Go to the Illinois, 



534 LETTER TO [PART III. 

by all means. But, as there is a country, a 
settled country, a free country, full of kind 
neighbours, full of all that is good, and when 
this country is to be traversed in order to get 
at the acknowledged hardships of the Illinois, 
how can a sane mind lead an English Farmer 
into the expedition ? 

986. It is the enchanting damsel that makes 
the knight encounter the hair-breadth scapes, 
the sleeping on the ground, the cooking with 
cross-sticks to hang the pot on. It is the 
PrairiCy that pretty French word, which means 
green grass bespangled with daisies and cow- 
slips ! Oh, God ! What delusion ! And that a 
man of sense; a man of superior understanding 
and talent ; a man of honesty, honour, huma- 
nity, and lofty sentiment, should be the cause 
of this delusion ; I, my dear Sir, have seen 
Prairies many years ago, in America, as fine 
as yours, as fertile as yours, though not so ex- 
tensive. I saw those Prairies settled on by 
American Loyalists, who were carried, with 
all their goods and tools to the spot, and who 
were furnished with four years' provisions, all 
at the expence of England; who had the 
lands given them; tools given them; and 
who were thus seated down on the borders of 
creeksy which gave them easy communication 
with the inhabited plains near the sea. The 



PART III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 535 

settlers that I particularly knew were Connec- 
ticut men. Men with families of sons. Men 
able to do as much in a day at the works neces- 
sary in their situation as so many Englishmen 
would be able to do in a week. They began 
with a shed; then rose to a log-house; and next 
to 2i frame-house; all of their own building. I 
have seen them manure their land with Salmon 
caught in their creeks, and with pigeons caught 
on the land itself. It will be a long while be- 
fore you will see such beautiful Cornrfields as 
I saw there. Yet nothing but the danger and 
disgrace which attended their return to Con- 
necticut prevetited their returning, though there 
they must have begun the world anew. I saw 
them in their log-huts, and saw them in their 
frame-houses. They had overcome all their 
difficulties as settlers ; they were under a go- 
vernment which required neither tax nor service 
from them ; they were as happy as people could 
be as to ease and plenty ; but, still, they sighed 
for Connecticut; and especially the women, 
young as well as old, though we, gay fellows 
with worsted or silver lace upon our bright red 
coats, did our best to make them happy by 
telling them entertaining stories about Old 
England, while we drank their coffee and grog 
by gallons, and eat their fowls, pigs and sau- 
sages and sweet-meats, by wheel-barrow loads ; 



536 LETTER TO [PARt III. 

for, though we were by no means shy, their 
hospitality far exceeded our appetites. I am 
an old hand at the work of settling in wilds. 
I have, more tlian once or twice, had to begin 
my nest and go in, like a bird, making it 
habitable by degrees ; and, if I, or, if such 
people as my old friends above-mentioned, with 
every thing found for them and brought to the 
spot, had difficulties to undergo, and sighed 
for home even after all the difficulties were 
over, what must be the lot of an English Far- 
mer's family in the Illinois ? 

987. All this I told you, my dear sir, in 
London just before your departure. I begged 
of vou and Mr. Richard Flower both, not to 
think of the Wildernesses. I begged of you to 
go to within a day's ride of some of these great 
cities, where your ample capital and your great 
skill could not fail to place you upon a footing, 
at least, with the richest amongst the most 
happy and enlightened Yeomanry in the world ; 
where you would find every one to praise the 
improvements you would introduce, and no- 
body to envy you any thing that you might 
acquire. Where you would find society as 
good, in all respects, as that which you had 
left behind you. Where you would find neigh- 
bours ready prepared for you far more generous 
and hospitable than those in England can be. 



PART III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 537 

loaded and pressed down as they are by the 
inexorable hand of the Borough-villains. 1 
offered you a letter (which, I believe, I sent 
you), to my friends the Pauls. " But," said I, 
*' you want no letter. Go into Philadelphia, 
" or B*icks, or Chester, or Montgomery Coun- 
" ty ; tell any of the Quakers, or any body 
*' else, that you are an English Farmer, come 
" to settle amongst them ; and, I'll engage that 
*' you will instantly have friends and neigh- 
" hours as good and as cordial as those that 
" you leave in England." 

988. At this very moment, if this plan had 
been pursued, you would have had a beautiful 
farm of two or three hundred acres. Fine 
stock upon it feeding on Swedish Turnips. 
A house overflowing with abundance; comfort, 
ease, and, if you chose, elegance, would have 
been your inmates ; libraries^ public and private 
within your reach ; and a communication with 
England much more quick and regular than 
that which you now have even with Pittsburgh. 

989. You say, that " Philadelphians know 
" nothing of the Western Countries." Suffer 
me, then, to say, that you know nothing of 
the Atlantic States^ which, indeed, is the only 
apology for your saying, that the Americans 
have no mutton Jit to eat, and regard it onli/ as 
«t thing Jit for dogs. In this island every farmer 



638 LETTER TO [PART III. 

has sheep. I kill fatter lamb than 1 ever saw 
in England, and the/attest mutton I ever saw, 
was in company with Mr. Harline, in Philadel- 
phia market last winter. At Brighton, near 
Boston, they produced, at a cattle shew this 
fall, an ox of two-thousand seven-hundred pounds 
weight, and sheep much finer, than you and 
I saw at the Smithfield Show in 1814. Mr. 
Judge Lawrence of this county, has kept, for 
seven years, an average of Jive hundred Merinos 
on his farm of one hundred andjifty acreSy besides 
raising twenty acres of Corn and his usual 
pretty large proportion of grain! Can your 
Western Farmers beat that? Yes, in extent, 
as the surface of five dollars beats that of a 
guinea. 

990. 1 suppose that Mr. Judge Lawrence's 
farm, close by the side of a bay that gives him 
two hours of water carriage to New- York ; a 
farm with twenty acres of meadow, real prairie; 
a gentleman's house and garden ; barns, sheds, 
cider-house, stables, coach-house, corn-cribs, 
and orchards that may produce from four to 
eight thousand bushels of apples and pears : I 
suppose, that this farm is worth three hundred 
dollars an acre: that is, forty-five thousand 
dollars ; or about, tivelve or thirteen thousand 
pomids. 

991. Now, then, let us take a look at your 



PART III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 539 

estimate of the ex[)ences of sitting down in the 
prairies. 

Copy from my Memorandum 3ook. 
992. Estimate of money required for the com- 
fortable establishment of my family on Bolting 
House, now English, prairie; on which the first 
instalment is paid. About 720 acres of wood- 
land, and 720 prairie — the latter to be chiefly 

grass: — Dollars. 

Second instalment, August, 1819, 720 
Third ditto . . . August, 1820, 720 
Fourth ditto . . August, 1821, 720 

2,160 

Dwelling-house and appurtenances . . 4,500 

Other buildings 1,500 

4680 rods of fencing, viz. 3400 on the 
prairie, and 1280 round the wood- 
land 1,170 

Sundry wells, 200 dollars; gates, 100 

dollars; cabins, 200 dollars ... 500 
100 head of cattle, 900 dollars ; 20 sows, 

&c. 100 dollars; sheep, 1000 dollars . 2,000 
Ploughs, waggons, &c. and sundry tools 

and implements 270 

Housekeeping until the land supplies 

us 1,000 



Carried over . . .13,100 
2 Q 



540 LETTER TO [PART III. 

Dollars. 

Brought over . . . .13,100 
Shepherd one year's wages, herdsmen 

one year, and sundry other labourers 1,000 
One cabinet-maker, one wheel-wright, 
one year, making furniture and imple- 
ments, 300 dollars each 600 

Sundry articles of furniture, ironmon- 
gery, pottery, glass, &c 500 

Sundries, fruit trees, &c 100 

First instalment already paid .... 720 

Five horses on hand, worth .... 300 
Expence of freight and carriage of linen, 

bedding, books, clothing, &c . . . 1,000 

Value of articles brought from England 4,500 

Voyage and journey . 2,000 



Doll. 23,820 
23,820 dollars zz £5,359 sterling. 
Allow about 600 dollars more 
for seed and corn 141 

^5,500 
993. So, here is more than one third of the 
amount of Mr. Judge Lawrence's farm. To 
be sure, there are only about 18,000 dollars 
expended on land, buildings, and getting- at 
them ; but, what a life is that which you are 
to lead for a thousand dollai^s a year, when two 
good domestic servants will cost four hundred 



PART III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 541 

of the money ? Will you live like one of the 
Yeomen of your rank here ? Then, J assure 
you, that your domestics and groceries (the 
latter three times as dear as they are here) and 
crockery-ware (equally dear) will more than 
swallow up that pitiful sum. You allow six 
thousand dollars for buildings. Twice the sum 
would not put you, in this respect, upon a 
footing with Mr. Lawrence. His land is all 
completely fenced and his grain in the ground. 
His apple trees have six thousand bushels of 
apples in their buds, ready to come out in the 
spring ; and, a large part of these to be sold 
at a high price to go on ship-board. But, what 
is to give you his market? What is to make 
your pork, as soon as killed, sell for 9 or 10 
dollars a hundred, and your cows at 45 or 50 
dollars each, and your beef at 7 or 8 dollars a 
hundred, and your corn at a dollar, and wheat 
at two dollars a bushel ? 

994. However, happiness is in the mind; 
and, if it be necessary to the gratification of 
your mind to inhabit a wilderness and be the 
owner of a large tract of land, you are right to 
seek and enjoy this gratification. But, for the 
plain, plodding English Farmer, who simply 
seeks safety for his little property, with some 
addition to it for his children ; for such a per- 
son to cross the Atlantic states in search of 
2 Q 2 



542 LETTER^ TO [PART III. 

safety, tranquillity and gain in the Illinois, i», 
to my mind, little short of madness. Yet, to 
this mad enterprize is he allured by your cap- 
tivating statements, and which statements be- 
come decisive in their effects upon his mind, 
when they are reduced to figures. This, my 
dear Sir, is the part of your writings, which 
has given me most pain. You have not meant 
to deceive ; but you have first practised a de- 
ceit upon yourself, and then upon others. All 
the disadvantages you state; but, then, you ac- 
company the statement by telling us how quick- 
ly and how easily they will be overcome. Salt, 
Mr. HuLME finds, even at Zanesville, at tivo 
dollars and a half a bushel ,• but, you tell us, 
that it soon will be at three quarters of a dollar. 
And thus it goes all through. 

995. J am happy, however, that you have 
given us figures in your account of what an 
English farmer may do ivith two thousand 
j)ounds. It is alluring, it is fallacious, it tends 
to disappointment, misery, ruin and broken 
hearts ; but it is open and honest in intention, 
and it affords us the means of detecting and 
exposing the fallacy. Many and many a family 
have returned to New England after having emi- 
grated to the West in search oi fine estates. 
They, able workmen, exemplary livers, have re- 
turned to labour in their native States amongst 



PART III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 543 

their relations and old neighbours; but, what are 
our poor ruined countrymen to do, when they 
become pennyless ? If I could root my coun- 
try from my heart, common humanity would 
urge me to make an humble attempt to dissi- 
pate the charming delusions, which have, with- 
out your perceiving it, gone forth from your 
sprightly and able pen, and which delusions 
are the more dangerous on account of your 
justly high and well-known character for un- 
derstanding and integrity. 

996. The statement, to which I allude, stands 
as follows, in your tenth Letter from the Illi- 
nois. 

997. A capital of 2000Z. sterling, (8,889 dol- 
lars,) may be invested on a section of such land^ 
in the following manner, viz. Dollars. 
Purchase of the land, 640 acres, at 2 

dollars per acre 1280 

House and buildings, exceedingly con- 
venient and comfortable, may be built 
for 1500 

A rail fence round the woods, 1000 rods, 

at 25 cents per rod 250 

About 1800 rods of ditch and bank, to 

divide the arable land into 10 fields . 600 

Planting 1800 rods of live fence . . . 150 



Carried over . , 3780 



544 LETTER TO [PART III. 

Dollars. 

Brought over . . . 3780 
Fruit trees for orchard, &c. .... 100 
Horses and other live stock .... 1500 

Iinplements and furniture 1000 

Provision for one year, and sundry inci- 
dental charges 1000 

Sundry articles of linen, books, apparel, 
implements, &c. brought from Eng- 
land 1000 

Carriage of ditto, suppose 2000 lbs. at 10 

dollars per cwt 200 

Voyage and travelling expences of one 
person, suppose 309 

8889 
Note. — The first instalment on the 
land is 320 dollars, therefore 960 dol- 
lars of the purchase money remain in 
hand to be applied to the expences of 
cultivation, in addition to the sums above 
stated. 

Expenditure of first Year. 

Breaking up 100 acres, 2 dollars per 

acre 200 

Indian corn for seed, 5 barrels, (a barrel 

is five bushels) 10 

Planting ditto 25 

Carried over . . . 235 



PART III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 545 

Dollars, 

Brought over . . . 235 

Horse-hoeing ditto, one dollar per acre . 100 

Harvesting ditto, li dollar per acre . . 150 
Ploughing the same land for wheat, 1 

dollar per acre 100 

Seed wheat, sowing and harrowing . . 175 

Incidental expences 240 

Produce of first Year. 1000 

100 acres of Indian corn, 50 bushels (or 
]0 barrels) per acre, at 2 dollars per 
barrel 2000 

Net produce 1000 

Expenditure of second Year. 
Breaking up 100 acres for Indian corn, 

with expences on that crop .... 485 
Harvesting and threshing wheat, 100 

acres ...*... , ••. . . 350 
Ploughing 100 acres for wheat, seed, &c. 275 
Incidents . 290 

Produce of second Year. 1400 

100 acres Indian corn, 10 bar- 
rels per acre, 2 dollars per 
barrel 2000 

100 acres wheat, 20 bushels per 
acre, 75 dollars per barrel . . 1500 — 3500 

Net produce 2100 



546 LETTER TO [PART III. 

Expenditure of third Year. Dollars. 

Breaking up 100 acres as before, with 

expences on crop of Indian corn . . 485 
Ploughing J 00 acres of wheat stubble 

for Indian corn 100 

Horse hoeing, harvesting, &c. ditto . . 285 

Harvesting and threshing 1 00 acres wheat 350 
Dung-carting 100 acres for wheat, after 

second crop of Indian corn .... 200 

Ploughing 200 acres wheat, seed, &c. . 550 

Incidents 330 

2300 
Produce of third Year. 

200 acres of Indian corn, 10 bar- 
rels per acre, 2 dollars per bar- 
rel . 4000 

100 acres wheat, 20 bushels per 
acre, 75 dollars per barrel . . 1500—5500 

Net produce 3200 

JEivpeuditure of fourth Year. 

As the third 2300 

Harvesting and threshing 100 acres more 

wheat 350 

Additional incidents 50 

2700 



PART in.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 547 

Produce of fourth Year. Dollars. 

200 acres Indian corn, as above . 4000 
200 acres wheat 3000—7000 



Net produce 4300 
Summari/. 





EXPENCES. 


PRODUCE. 


First year 


Dollars. 

, . 1000 . 


Dollars. 

. 2000 


Second . . 


. . 1400 . 


. 3500 


Third . . . 


. . 2300 . 


. 5500 


Fourth . . 


. . 2700 . 


. 7000 



18000 
House- keeping and 

other expences for 

four years . . . 4000 11,400 

Net proceeds per annum . . . . . 1650 
Increasing value of land by cultivation 

and settlements, half a dollar per ann. 

on 640 acres 320 

Annual clear profit 1970 

998. " Twenty more : kill 'em ! Twenty 
" more: kill them too!" No: I will not com- 
pare you to BoBADiL : for he was an intentional 
deceiver; and you are unintentionally deceiving 
others and yourself too. But, really, there is 
in this statement something so extravagant ; so 
perfectly wild; so ridiculously and staringly 



548 LETTER TO [PART III. 

untrue, that it is not without a great deal of 

difficulty that all my respect for you personally 

can subdue in me the temptation to treat it 

with the contempt due to its intrinsic demerits. 

999. I shall notice only a few of the items. 

A house, you say, '' exceedingli/ con\enient3.nd 

" comfortable, together with farm-buildings, 

" may be built for 1500 dollars." Your own 

intended house you estimate at 4500, and your 

out-buildings at 1500. So that, e/'this house of 

the farmer (an English farmer, mind) and his 

buildings, are to be ** exceedingly convenient 

" and comfortable" ioY 1500 dollars, your house 

and buildings must be on a scale, which, if not 

perfectly princely, must savour a good deal of 

aristocratical distinction. But, this if relieves 

us ; for even your house, built of pine timber 

and boards, and covered with cedar shingles, 

and finished only as a good plain farm-house 

ought to be, will, if it be thirty-six feet fronts 

thirty four feet deep, two rooms in front, kitchen, 

and wash-house behind, four rooms above, and 

a cellar beneath ; yes, this house alone, the bare 

empty house, with doors and windows suitable, 

will cost you more than six thousand dollars. I 

state this upon good authority. I have taken 

the estimate of a building carpenter. *' What 

" Carpenter?" you will say. Why, a Long 

Island carpenter, and the house to be built 



PART III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 549 

within a mile of Brooklyn, or two miles of New 
York. Aud this is giving you all the advantage, 
for here the pine is cheaper than with you ; the 
shingles cheaper ; the lime and stone and brick 
as cheap or cheaper; the glass, iron, lead, brass 
and tin, all at half or a quarter of the Prairie 
price: and, as to labour, if it be not cheaper 
here than with vou, men would do well not to 
go so far in search of high wages! 

1000. Let no simple Englishman imagine, that 
here, at and near New York, in this dear place^ 
we have to pay for the boards and timber 
brought from a distance; and that you, the 
happy people of the land of daisies and cow- 
slips, can cut down your men good and noble 
oak trees upon the spot, on your own estates, and 
turn them into houses without any carting. L,et 
no simple En2:lishman believe such idle stories 
as this. To dissipate all such notions, I have 
only to tell him, that the American farmers on 
this island, when they have buildings to make 
or repair, go and purchase the pine timber and 
boards, at the very same time that they cut 
down their own oak trees and cleave up and burn 
them as fire-wood! This is the universal prac- 
tice in all the parts of America that I have ever 
seen. What is the cause ? Pine wood is cheaper y 
though bought, than the oak is icithout buying. 
This fact, which nobody can deny, is a complete 



550 LETTER TO [PART HI. 

proof that you gain no advantage from being in 
woods, as far as building is concerned. And 
the truth is, that the boards and plank, which 
have been used in the Prairie, have actually been 
brought from the Wabash, charged with ten 
miles rough land carriage: how far they may 
have come down the Wabash I cannot tell. 

1001. Thus, then, the question is settled that 
building must be cheaper here than in the Illi- 
nois. If, therefore, a house, 36 by 34 feet, cost 
here 6000 dollars, what can a man get there for 
1500 dollars? A miserable hole, and no more. 
But, here are to he farm-buildings and all, in the 
1500 dollars' worth! A barn, 40 feet by 30, 
with floor, and with stables in the sides, cannot 
be built for 1500 dollars, leaving out waggon- 
house, corn-crib, cattle-hovels, yard fences, pig- 
sties, smoke house, and a great deal more ! And 
yet, you say, that all these, and a farm-house 
into the bargain, all " exceedingly comfortable 
** and convenient," may be had for 1500 dollars! 

1002. Now, you know, my dear Sir, that this 
is said in the face of all America. Farmers are 
my readers. They all understand these mat- 
ters. They are not only good, but impartial 
judges; and 1 call upon you to contradict, or 
even question, my statements, if you can. 

1003. Do my eyes deceive me? Or do I really 
se^ one hundred a?id fifty dollars put down as 



PART III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 551 

the ex pence of '* planting one thousand eight 
" hundred rod of live fence'? That is to say, 
7iine cents, or four pence half-penny sterling, a 
rod! What plants ? Whence to come? Drawn 
out of the woods, or first sown in a nursery ? 
Is it seed to be sown ? Where are the seeds to 
come from? No levelling of the top of the 
bank ; no drill ; no sowing ; no keeping clean 
for a year or two : or, all these for nine cents a 
rod, when the same works cost half a dollar a 
rod in Eiigland ! 

1004. Manure too ! And do you really want 
manure then? And, where, I pray you, are you 
to get manure for 100 acres? But, supposing 
you to have it, do you seriously mean to tell us 
that you will carry it on for two dollars an 
acre ? The carrying on, indeed, might perhaps 
be done for that, but, who pays for the filling 
and for the spreading? Ah! my dear Sir, I 
can well imagine your feelings at putting down 
the item of dung-carting, trifling as you make 
it appear upon paper. You now recollect my 
words when L last had the pleasure of seeing 
you, in Catherine Street, a few days before the 
departure of us both. I then dreaded the dung- 
cart, and recommended the Tullian System to 
you, by which you would have the same crops 
every year, without manure ; but, unfortunately 
for my advice, you sincerely believed your land 



552 LETTER TO [PART III. 

would be already too rich, and that your main 
difficulty would be, not to cart on manure, but 
to cart off the produce! 

1005. After this, it appears unnecessary for me 
to notice any other part of this Transalleganian 
romance, which I might leave to the admira- 
tion of the Edinburgh Reviewers, whose know- 
ledge of these matters is quite equal to what 
they have discovered as to the Funding System 
and Paper Money. But when I think of the 
flocks of poor English Farmers, who are tramp- 
ing away towards an imaginary, across a real 
land of milk and honey, [ cannot lay down the 
pen, till 1 have noticed an item or two of the 
produce. 

1006. The farmer is to have 100 acres of 
Indian corn, the first year. The minds of you 
gentlemen who cross the Allegany seem to ex- 
pand, as it were, to correspond with the extent 
of the horizon that opens to your view ; but, 1 
can assure you, that if you were to talk to a 
farmer on this side of the mountains of a field 
of Corn of a hundred acres during the first year 
of a settlement, with grassy land and hands 
scarce, you would frighten him into a third-day 
ague. In goes your Corn, however ! " Twenty 
" more : kill 'em !" Nothing but ploughing : no 
harrowing; no marking; and only a horse- 
hoeing, during the sumraei", at a dollar an acre. 



PART III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 553 

The planting is to cost only a quarter of a dollar 
an acre. The planting will cost a dollar an 
acre. The horse-hoeing in your grassy land, 
two dollars. The hand-hoeing, which must be 
well done, or you will have no corn, two dollars; 
for, in spite of your teeth, your rampant natural 
grass will be up before your corn, and a man 
must go to a thousand hills to do half an acre a 
day. It will cost two dollars to harvest a hun- 
dred bushels oicorn ears. So that here are about 
400 dollars of expences on the Corn alone, to 
be added. A trifley to be sure, when we are 
looking through the Transalleganian glass, 
which diminishes out-goings and magnifies in- 
comings. However, here are four hundred 
dollars. 

1007. In goes the plough for wheat? "In 
** him again ! Twenty more !" But, this is in Oc' 
tober, mind. Is the Corn off? It may be ; but, 
where are the/our hundred waggon loads of corn 
stalks J A prodigiously fine thing is this forest 
of fodder, as high and as thick as an English 
coppice. But, though it be of no use to you, 
who have the meadows without bounds, this 
coppice must be removed, if you please, before 
you plough for wheat! 

1008. Let us pause here, then ; let us look at 
the battalion, who are at work; for, there must 
be little short of a Hessian Battalion. Twenty 



554 LETTER TO [PART III. 

men and twenty horses may husk the Corn, cut 
and cart the stalks, plough and sow and harrow 
for the wheat; twenty two-legged and twenty 
four-legged animals may do the work in the pro- 
per time; but, if they do it, they must work 
well. Here is a goodly group to look at, for an 
English Farmer, without a penny in his pocket; 
for all his money is gone long ago, even accord- 
ing to your own estimate ; and, here, besides the 
expence of cattle and tackle, are 600 dollars, in 
bare wages, to be paid in a month ! You and I 
both have forgotten the shelling of the Corn, 
which, and putting it up, will come to 50 dol- 
lars more at the least, leaving the price of the 
barrel to be paid for by the purchaser of the 
Corn. 

1009. But, what did I say? Shell the Corn ? 
It must go into the Cribs first. It cannot be 
shelled immediately. And it must not be thrown 
into heaps. It must be put into Cribs. I have 
had made out an estimate of the expence of the 
Cribs for ten thousand bushels of Corn Ears : 
that is the crop ; and the Cribs will cost 570 
dollars! Though, mind, the farmer's house, 
barns, stables, waggon-house, and all, are to cost 
but 1500 dollars! But, the third year, our poor 
simpleton is to have 200 acres of corn ! " Twenty 
" more : kill 'em !" Another 570 dollars for 
Cribs! 



PART III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 555 

J 010. However, crops now come tumbling 
on him so fast, that he must struggle hard not to 
be stifled with his own superabundance. He 
has now got 200 acres of corn and 100 acres of 
wheat, which latter he has, indeed, had one 
year before! Oh, madness ! But, to proceed. 
To get in these crops and to sow the wheat, 
first taking away 200 acres of English cop- 
pice in stalks, wilJ, with the dunging for the 
wheat, require, at \eeisi,jifty good men, a,nd forti/ 
good horses or oxen, for thirty days. Faith ! 
when farmer Simpleton sees all this (in his 
dreams I mean), he will think himself a farmer 
of the rank of Job, before Satan beset that ex- 
ample of patience, so worthy of imitation, and 
so seldom imitated. 

1011. Well, but Simpleton must bustle to ^^^ 
in his wheat. In, indeed ! What can cover it, 
but the canopy of heaven? A barn! It will, 
at two English waggon loads of sheaves to an 
acre, require a barn a hundred feet long, fifty 
feet wide, and twenty-three feet high up to the 
eaves; and this barn, with two proper floors, 
will cost more than seven thousand dollars. He 
will put it in stacks ; let him add six men to his 
battalion then. He will thrash it in the field ; 
let him add ten more men ! Let him, at once, 
send and press the Harmonites into his service, 
and make Rapp march at their head, for, never 

2r 



556 LETTER TO [PART III. 

will he by any other means get in the crop; 
and, even then, if he pay fair wages, he will 
lose by it. 

1012. After the crop is in and the seed sown, 
in the fall, what is to become of Simpleton's 
men till Corn ploughing and planting time in the 
spring ? And, then, when the planting is done, 
what is to become of them till harvest time? 
Is he, like Bayes, in the Rehearsal, to lay them 
down when he pleases, and when he pleases 
make them rise up again? To hear you talk about 
these crops, and, at other times to hear you ad- 
vising others to bring labourers from England, 
one would think you, for your own part, able, 
like Cadmus, to make men start up out df the 
earth. How would one ever have thought it 
possible for infatuation like this to seize hold of 
a mind like yours ? 

1013. When I read in your Illinois Letters, 
that you had prepared horses, ploughs, and 
other things, for putting in a hundred acres of 
Corn in the Spiing, how I pitied you ! I saw all 
your plagues, if you could not see them. I 
saw the grass choking your plants ; the grubs 
eating them ; and you fretting and turning from 
the sight with all the pangs of sanguine baffled 
hope. I expected you to have ten bushels^ in- 
stead oi fifty, upon an acre. I saw your confu- 
sion, and participated in your mortification. 



PART III.] MORRIS BIRKBEGK, ESQ. 657 

FrGin these feelings I was happily relieved by 
tbe Journal of our friend Hulme, who informs 
the world, and our countrymen in particular, 
that you had not, in July last, any Corn at all 
growing ! 

1014. Thus it is to reckon one's chickens be- 
fore they are hatched : and thus the Transalle- 
ganian dream vanishes. You have been de- 
ceived. A warm heart, a lively imagination, 
and 1 know not what caprice about republi- 
canism, have led you into sanguine expectations 
and wrong conclusions. Come, now! Confess 
it like yourself; that is, like a man of sense and 
spirit: like an honest and fair-dealing John 
Bull. To err belongs to all men, great as well 
as little ; but, to be ashamed to confess error, 
belongs only to the latter. 

1015. Great as is my confidence in your can- 
dour, I can, however, hardly hope wholly to 
escape your anger for having so decidedly con- 
demned your publications ; but, I do hope, that 
you will not be so unjust as to impute my con- 
duct to any base self interested motive. I have 
no private interest, I can have no such interest 
in endeavouring to check the mad torrent to- 
wards the West. I oivn nothing in these States, 
and never shall ; and whether English Farmers 
push on into misery and ruin, or stop here in 
happiness and prosperity, to me, as far as private 

"2 k 2 



558 \ LETTER II. TO [PART III- 

interest goes, it must be the same. As to the 
difference in our feelings and notions about 
country, about allegiance, and about forms of 
government, this may exist without any, even the 
smallest degree of personal dislike. I was no 
hypocrite in England ; I had no views farther 
than those which I professed. I wanted nothing 
for myself but the fruit of my own industry and 
talent, and 1 wished nothing for my country but 
its liberties and laws, which say, that the people 
shall be fairly represented. England has been 
very happy and/ree; her greatness and renown 
have been surpassed by those of no nation in the 
world ; her wise, just, and merciful laws form the 
basis of that freedom which we here enjoy, she has 
been fertile beyond all rivalship in men of learn- 
ing and men devoted to the cause of freedom 
and humanity ; her people, though proud and 
domineering, yield to no people in the world in 
frankness, good faith, sincerity, and benevo- 
lence : and I cannot but know, that this state of 
things has existed, and that this people has been 
formed, under a government of king, lords, and 
commons. Having this powerful argument of 
experience before me, and seeing no reason why 
the thing should be otherwise, I have never 
wished for republican government in England; 
though, rather than that the present tyrannical 
oligarchy should continue to trample on king and 



PART III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 559 

people, I would gladly see the whole fabric torn 
to atoms, and trust to chance for something bet- 
ter, being sure that nothing could be worse. 
But, if I am not a republican ; if 1 think my 
duty towards England indefeasible ; if I think 
that it becomes me to abstain from any act 
which shall seem to say I abandon her, and 
especially in this her hour of distress and oppres- 
sion ; and, if, in all these points, I differ from 
you, I trust that to this difference no part of 
the above strictures will be imputed, but that 
the motive will be fairly inferred from the act, 
and not the act imputed unfairly to any mo- 
tive. I am, my dear Sir, with great respect for 
your talents as well as character. 

Your most obedient 

And most humble servant, 

Wm. cobbett. 



560 LETTER II. TO [PART 111. 



TO 



MORRIS BIRKBECK, Esq. 

OF ENGLISH PRAIRIE, ILLINOIS TERRITORY. 



LETTER II. 

North Hempstead, Long Island, 
15th Dec. 1818. 

My dear Sir, 

1016. Being, when I wrote my former Letter 
to you, in great haste to conclude, in order that 
my son William might take it to England with 
him, I left unnoticed many things, which I had 
observed in your " Letters from the Illinois;'' 
and which things merited pointed notice. Some 
of these I will notice; for, J wish to discharge 
all my duties towards my countrymen faith- 
fully; and, I know of no duty more sacred, 
than that of warning them against pecuniary 
ruin and mental misery. 

1017. It has always been evident to me, that 
the Western Countries were not the countries 
for English farmers to settle in: no, nor for 
American farmers, unless under peculiar cir- 



PART III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 561 

cumstances. The settlers, who have gone from 
the New England States, have, in general, been 
ahle men with families of stout sons. The con- 
tracted farm in New England sells for money 
enough to buy the land for five or six farms in 
the West, These farms are made by the labour 
of the owners. They hire nobody. They live 
any how for a while. 1 will engage that the 
labour performed by one stout New England 
family in one year, would cost an English farmer 
a thousand pounds in ivages. You will say, why 
cannot the English labour as hard as the Yan- 
kees? But, mind, 1 talk of ia. family of Yan- 
kee sons; and, besides, I have no scruple to say, 
that one of these will do as much work in the 
clearing mid fencing of a farm, and in the erec- 
Hon of buildings ^ 2iS four or five English of the 
same age and size. Yet, have many of the New 
England farmers returned. Even they have had 
cause to repent of their folly. What hope is 
there, then, that English farmers will succeed? 
1018. It so happens, that I have seen new set- 
tlements formed. I have seen lands cleared. I 
have seen crowds of people coming and squat- 
ting down in woods or little islands, and by the 
sides of rivers. 1 have seen the log-hut raised ; 
the bark covering put on; I have heard the 
bold language of the adventurers ; and I have 
witnessed their subsequent miseries. They 



5(52 LETTER II. TO [PART III. 

were just as free as you are; for, they, like you, 
saw no signs of the existence of any government, 
good or bad. 

1019. New settlements, particularly at so 
great a distance from all the conveniences and 
sweeteners of life, must be begun by people 
who labour for themselves. Money is, in such 
a case, almost useless. It is impossible to be- 
lieve, that, after your statement about your in- 
tended hundred acres of Indian corw, you would 
not have had it, or, at least, a part of it, if you 
could; that is to say, li money would have got 
it. Yet you had not a single square rod. Mr. 
HuLME, (See Journal, 28th July) says, in the 
way of reason for your having no crops this 
year, that you conXd purchase ^'\ih more economy 
than you could grow ! Indeed ! what ; would 
the Indian Corn have cost, then, more than the 
price of the Corn? Untoward observation; 
hut perfectly true^ I am convinced. There is, it is 
my opinion, nobody that can raise Indian Corn 
or Grain at so great a distance from a market to 
any profit at all with Jiired labour. Nay, this is 
too plain a case to be matter of opinion. I may 
safely assume it as an indisputable fact. For, it 
being notorious, that labour is as high priced 
with you as with us, and your statement shew- 
ing that Corn is not much more than one third 
of our price, how monstrous, if you gain at all. 



PART III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 563 

must be the Consumers' gains here ! The rent 
of the land here is a mere trifle more than it 
must be there, for the cultivated part must pay 
rent for the uncultivated part. The lahouVy in- 
deed, as all the world knows, is every thing. 
All the other expences are not worth speaking 
of. What, then, must be the gains of the Long 
[sland farmer, who sells his corn at a dollar a 
bushel, if you, with labour at the Long Island 
price, can gain by selling Corn at the rate of 
Jive bushels for two dollars ! If yours be a fine 
country for English farmers to migrate to, what 
must this he ? You want no manure. This can- 
not last long ; and, accordingly, I see, that you 
mean to dung for wheat after the second crop of 
Corn. This is another of the romantic stories 
exposed. In Letter IV you relate the romance 
oi manure being useless; but, in Letter X, you 
tell us, that you propose to use it. Land bear- 
ing crops without a manure, or, with new-cul- 
ture and constant ploughing, is a romance. 
This I told you in London ; and this you have 
found to be true. 

1020. It is of little consequence what wild 
schemes are formed and executed by men who 
have property enough to 'carry them back ; but, 
to invite men to go to the Illinois with a few 
score of pounds in their pockets, and to tell 
them, that they can become farmers with those 



664 LETTER II. TO [PART III. 

pounds, appears to me to admit of no other 
apology than an unequivocal acknowledgment, 
that the inviter is mad. Yet your Jijtcenth Let- 
ter from the Illinois really contains such an in- 
vitation. This letter is manifestly addressed to 
an imaginary person. It is clear that the cor- 
respondent is di feigned, or supposed, being. The 
letter is, 1 am sorry to say, I think, a mere trap 
to catch poor creatures with a few pounds in 
their pockets. 1 will here take the liberty to in- 
sert the whole of this letter; and will then en- 
deavour to show the misery which it is calcu- 
lated to produce, not only amongst English 
people, but amongst Americans who may 
chance to read it, and who are now living hap- 
pily in the Atlantic States. The letter is dated, 
24th of February, 1818, and the following are 
its words : 

1021. " Dear Sir, — When a man gives advice 
*' to his fi'iends, on affairs of great importance 
" to their interest, he takes on himself a load of 
" responsibility, from which I have always 
*' shrunk, and generally withdrawn. My ex- 
" ample is very much at their service, either for 
" imitation or warning, as the case may be. 1 
** must, however, in writing to you, step a little 
" over this line of caution, having more than 
** once been instrumental in helping you, not 
" out of your difficulties, but from one scene of 



PART III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 565 

" perplexity to another; I cannot help advising 
*' you to make an effort more, and extricate 
" yourself and family completely, by removing 
" into this country. — When 1 last saw you, 
*' twelve months ago, I did not think favourably 
" of your prospects: if things have turned out 
" better, 1 shall be rejoiced to hear it, and you 
** will not need the advice 1 am preparing for 
** you. But, if vexation and disappointments 
" have assailed you, as I feared, and you can 
" honourably make your escape, with the 
*' means of transmitting yourself hither, and 
" one hundred pounds sterling to spare — don't 
*' hesitate. In six months after I shall have 
" welcomed you, barring accidents, you shall 
** discover that you are become rich, for you 
*' shall feel that you are independent : and I 
" think that will be the most delightful sensa- 
" tion you ever experienced ; for, you will re- 
" ceive it multiplied, as it were, by the number 
" of your family as your troubles now are. It 
*' is not, however, a sort of independence that 
" will excuse you from labour, or afford you 
** many luxuries, that is, costly luxuries. I 
" will state to you what 1 have learned, from a 
" good deal of observation and inquiry, and a 
'Mittle experience; then you will form your 
" own judgment. In the first place, the voyage. 
*' That will cost you, to Baltimore or Philadel- 



566 LETTER II. TO [pART III. 

" phia, provided you take it, as no doubt you 
" would, in the cheapest way, twelve guineas 
*' each, for a birth, fire, and water, for yourself 
" and wife, and half price, or less, for your 
" children, besides provisions, which you will 
" furnish. Then the journey. Over the moun- 
" tains to Pittsburgh, down the Ohio to Shaw- 
" nee Town, and from thence to our settle- 
" ment, fifty miles north, will amount to five 
" pounds sterling per head. — If you arrive here 
*' as early as May, or even June, another five 
** pounds per head will carry you on to that 
" point, where you may take your leave of de- 
*' pendence on any thing earthly but your own 
" exertions. — At this time I suppose you to have 
** remaining one hundred pounds (borrowed 
" probably from English friends, who rely on 
" your integrity, and who may have directed 
" the interest to be paid to me on their behalf, 
" and the principal in due season.) — We will 
" now, if you please, turn it into dollars, and 
" consider how it may be disposed of. A 
" hundred pounds sterling will go a great way 
*' in dollars. With eighty dollars you will en- 
** ter a quarter section of land ; that is, you 
'* will purchase at the land-office one hundred 
" and sixty acres, and pay one-fourth of the 
" purchase money, and looking to the land to 
" reward your pains with the means of dis- 



PART III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 567 

" charging the other three-fourths as they be- 
" come due, in two, three, and four years. — 
" You will build a house with fifty dollars; 
" and you will find it extremely comfortable 
" and convenient, as it will be really and truly 
" yours. Two horses will cost, with harness 
** and plough, one hundred. — Cows, and hogs, 
" and seed corn, and fencing, with other ex> 
•' penses, will require the remaining two hund- 
" red and ten dollars. — This beginning, humble 
" as it appears, is affluence and splendour, com- 
*' pared with the original outfit of settlers in 
" general. Yet no man remains in poverty, who 
*' possesses even moderate industry and eco- 
" nomy, and especially of time. — You would of 
** course bring with you your sea-bedding and 
" store of blankets, for you will need them on 
*' the Ohio ; and you should leave £ngland 
" with a good stock of wearing apparel. Your 
** luggage must be composed of light articles, 
*' on account of the costly land-carriage from 
" the Eastern port to Pittsburgh, which will 
" be from seven to ten dollars per 100 lbs. 
** nearly sixpence sterling per pound. A few 
" simple medicines of good quality are indis- 
" pensable, such as calomel, bark in powder, 
"castor oil, calcined magnesia, laudanum; 
*' they may be of the greatest importance on 
" the voyage and journey, as well as after 



LETTER II. TO [PART III. 

" your arrival. — Change of climate and situa- 
" tion will produce temporary indisposition, 
" but with prompt and judicious treatment, 
" which is happily of the most simple kind, the 
" complaints to which new comers are liable are 
"seldom dangerous or difficult to overcome, 
*' provided due regard has been had to salubrity 
" in the choice of their settlement, and to diet 
" and accommodation after their arrival. 
'! <?! " With best regards, 1 remain, &c." 

1 022. Now, my dear sir, your mode of address, 
in this letter, clearly shews that you have in your 
eye a person above the level of common la- 
bourers. The words *' Dear Sir '' indicate that 
you are speaking to a friend, or, at least, to an 
intimate acquaintance; of course to a person, 
who has not been brought up in the habits of 
hard labour. And such a person it is, whom 
you advise and press to come to the Illinois 
with a hundred pounds in his pocket to become 
2i farmer ! 

1023. 1 will pass over the expences previous to 
this unfortunate man and his family's arriving at 
the Prairies, though those expences will be 
double the amount that you state them at. But 
he arrives with 450 dollars in his pocket. Of 
these he is to pay down 80 for his land, leaving 
three times that sum to be paid afterwards. 



PART III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 569 

He has 370 left. And now what is he to do? 
He arrives in May. So that this family has to 
cross the sea in winter, and the land in spring. 
There they are, however, and now what are 
they to do? They are to have built for 50 
dollars a house " EXTREMELY COM- 
" FORTABLE AND CONVENIENT:"— 
the very words that you use in describing the 
farmer's house, that was to cost, with out- 
buildings, 1500 dollars! However, ytJU htiv^ 
described your own cabin, whence we may ga- 
ther the meaning which you attach to the word 
comfortable. *' This cabin is built of round 
''straight logs, about a foot in diameter, laying 
" upon each other, and notched in at the cor- 
" ners, forming a room eighteen feet long by 
" sixteen ; the intervals between the logs 
*' * chunked,' that is, filled in with slips of 
" wood; and * mudded,' that is, daubed with a 
" plaister of mud; a spacious chimney, built 
" also of logs, stands like a bastion at one end ; 
" the roof is well covered with four hundred 
" ' clap boards' of cleft oak, very much like the 
" pales used in England for fencing parks. A 
" hole is cut through the side called, very pro- 
" perly, the * through,' for which there is a 
" ' shutter,' made also of cleft oak, and hung on 
" wooden hinges. All this has been executed 
" by contract, and well executed, for twenty 



570 LETTER II. TO [PART III. 

•' dollars. 1 have since added ten dollars to the 
*' cost, for the luxury of a floor and ceiling of 
" sawn boards, and it is now a comfortable ha- 
" bitation." 

1024. In plain words, this is a log-hut, such 
as the free negroes live in about here, and a 
hole it is, fit only for dogs, or hogs, or cattle. 
Worse it is than the negro huts ; for they have 
a bit of glass; but here is none. This miserable 
hole, black with smoke as it always must be, 
and without any window, costs, however, 30 
dollars. And yet this English acquaintance of 
yours is to have " a house extremely conifortable 
" and convenient for fifty dollar s^ Perhaps 
his 50 dollars might get him a hut, or hole, a 
few feet longer and divided into two dens. So 
that here is to be cooking, washing, eating, and 
sleeping all in the same " extremely convenient 
*' and comfortable" hole! And yet, my dear 
Sir, you find fault of the want of cleanliness in 
the Americans ! You have not seen " the Ame- 
" ricansT You have not seen the nice, clean, 
neat houses of the farmers in this island, in 
New England, in the Quaker counties of Penn- 
sylvania. You have seen nothing but the 
smoke-dried Ultra-montanians ; and your pro- 
ject seems to be to make the deluded English 
who may follow you rivals in the attainment of 
the tawny colour. What is this family to do 



PART III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 571 

in their 50 dollar den ? Suppose one or more 
of them sick ! How are the rest to sleep by 
night or to eat by day? 

1025. However, here they are, in this miserable 
place, with the ship-bedding, and without even 
a bedstead, and with 130 dollars gone in land 
and house. Ihvo horses atid harness and plough 
ai'e to cost 100 dollars! These, like the hinges 
of the door, are all to be of wood 1 suppose; 
for as to flesh and blood and bones in the form 
of two horses for 100 dollars is impossible, to 
say nothing about the plough and harness, 
which would cost 20 dollars of the money. 
Perhaps, however, you may mean some of those 
horses, ploughs and sets of harness, which, at 
the time when you wrote this letter, you had 
all ready ivaiting for the spring to put in your 
hundred acres of corn that w as never put in at 
all! However, let this pass too. Then there 
are 220 dollars left, and these are to provide 
cows, hogs, seed, corn, fencing, and other ex- 
pences. Next come two cows (poor ones) 24 
dollars; hogs, 15 dollars; seed corn, 5 dollars ; 
fencing, suppose 20 acres only, in four plots, the 
stuff brought from the woods nearest adjoining. 
Here are 360 rods of fencing, and, if it be done so 
as to keep out a pig, and to keep in a pig, or a 
horse or cow, for less than half a dollar a rod, I 
will suffer myself to be made into smoked meat in 

2 s 



672 LETTER II. TO [PART III. 

the extremely comfortable house. Thus, then, 
here are 213 out of the 220 dollars, and this 
happy settler has seven whole dollars left for all 
" other expences ;" amongst which are the cost 
of cooking utensils, plates, knives and forks, 
tables, and stools; for, as to table-cloths and 
chairs, those are luxuries unbecoming '* simple 
" republicans." But, there must be a pot to 
boil in ; or, is that too much? May these repub- 
licans have a washing tub ? Perhaps, indeed, 
it will become unnecessary in a short time ; for, 
the lice will have eaten up the linen; and, be- 
sides, perhaps real independence means stark- 
nakedness. But, at any rate, the hogs must 
have a trough; or, are they to eat at the same 
board with the family ? Talking of eating puts 
me in mind of a great article ; for what are the 
family to eat during the year and more before 
their land can produce? For even if they ar- 
rive in Maify they can have no crop that year. 
Why, they must graze with the cows in the 
Prairies, or snuggle with the hogs in the woods. 
An ove7i ! Childish effeminacy ! Oh ! unleavened 
bread for your life. JBread, did I say ? Where 
is the ** independent" family to get bread? Oh ! 
110 ! Grass and Acorns and Roots ; and, God 
be praised, you have plenty of water in your 
wells, though, perhaps, the family, with all 
their " independence,'' must be compelled to 



PART III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 573 

depend on your leave to get it, and fetch it half 
a mile into the bargain. 

1026. To talk seriously upon such a subject 
is impossible, without dealing in terms of repro- 
bation, which it would give me great pain to 
employ when speaking of any act of yours. 
Indeed such a family will be free; but, the 
Indians are free, and so are the gypsies in Eng- 
land. And I most solemnly declare, that I 
would sooner live the life of a gypsy in Eng- 
land, than be a settler, with less than five 
thousand pounds, in the Illinois; and, if I had 
the five thousand pounds, and was resolved to 
exchange England for America, what in the 
name of common sense, should induce me to go 
into a wild country, when I could buy a good 
farm of 200 acres, w4th fine orchard and good 
house and out-buildings, and stock it completely^ 
and make it rich as a garden, within twenty 
miles of a great sea-port, affording me a ready 
market and a high price for every article of my 
produce ? 

1027. You have, bi/ this time, seen more than 
you had seen, when you wrote your " Letters 
" from the Illinois." You would not, I am 
convinced, write such letters now. But, lest 
you should not do it, it is right that somebody 
should counteract their delusive effects; and 
and this I endeavour to do as much for the sake 

2 s 2 



57J iETTER II. to [part III. 

of this country as for that of my own country- 
men. For a good while I remained silent, 
hoping that few people would be deluded ; but 
when I heard, that an old friend, and brother 
sportsman; a sensible, honest, frank, and 
friendly man, in Oxfordshire^ whom I will not 
name, had been seized with the Illinois mad- 
ness, and when I recollected, that he was one 
of those, who came to visit me in prison, I 
could no longer hold my tongue ; for, if a man 
like him ; a man of his sound understanding, 
could be carried away by your representations, 
to what an extent must the rage have gone! 

1028. Mr. HuLME visited you with the most 
friendly feelings. He agrees with you perfectly 
as to notions about forms of government. He 
wished to give a good account of your proceed- 
ings. His account is favourable ; but, hisfactSf 
which 1 am sure are true, let out what I could 
not have known for certainty from any other 
quarter. However, [ do not care a farthing for 
the degrees of goodness or of badness ; I say all 
new countries are all badness for English far- 
mers. I say, that their place is near the great 
cities on the coast ; and that every step they go 
beyond forty miles from those cities is a step 
too far. They want freedom: they have it here. 
They want good land, good roads, good mar- 
kets : they have them all here. What should 



PART III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 575 

they run rambling about a nation-making for ? 
What have they to do about extending domi- 
nion and " taming the wilderness?" If they 
speculate upon becoming founders of republics, 
they will, indeed, do well to get out of the reach 
of rivals. If they have a thirst for power, they 
will naturally seek to be amongst the least in- 
formed part of mankind. But, if they only 
want to keep their property and live well, they 
will take up their abode on this side of the 
mountains at least. 

1029. The gi^and ideas about the extension of 
the empire of the United States are of very 
questionable soundness : and they become more 
questionable from being echoed by the Edin- 
hurgh Reviewers, a set of the meanest poli- 
ticians that .ever touched pen and paper. Upon 
any great question, they never have been right, 
even by accident, which is very hard ! The 
rapid extension of settlements to the West of 
the mountains is, in my opinion, by no means 
favourable to the duration of the present happy 
Union. The conquest of Canada would have 
been as dangerous ; but not more dangerous. 
A nation is never so strong and so safe as when 
its extreme points feel for each other as acutely 
as each feels for itself; and this never can be 
when all are not equally exposed to every 
danger 5 and especially when all the parts have 



576 LETTER II. TO [PART III- 

not the same interests. In case of a war ^v^th 
England, what would become of your market 
down the Mississippi ? That is your sole market. 
That way your produce must go; or you must 
dress yourself in skins and tear your food to 
bits with your hands. Yet that way your pro- 
duce could not go, unless this nation were to 
ke-ep up a Navy equal to that of England. 
Defend the country against invaders I know the 
people always will ; but, I am not sure, that 
they will like internal taxes sufficient to rear 
and support a navy sufficient to clear the gulph 
of Mexico of English squadrons. In short, it 
is my decided opinion, that the sooner the 
banks of the Ohio, the Wabash, and the Mis- 
sissippi are pretty thickly settled, the sooner the 
Union will be placed in jeopardy. If a war 
were to break out with England, even in a few 
years, the lands of which the Mississippi is the 
outlet, would lose a great part of their value. 
Who does not see in this fact a great cause of 
disunion? On this side the mountains, there 
are twelve hundred miles of coast to blockade; 
but you, gentlemen Prairie owners, are like a 
rat that has but one hole to go out and to come 
in at. You express your deep-rooted attach- 
ment to your adopted country, and I am sure 
you are sincere; but, still I may be allowed to 
doubt, whether you would cheerfully wear 



PART III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 577 

bear-skins, and gnaw your meat off the bones 
for the sake of any commercial right that the 
nation might go to war about. 1 know that 
you would not starve; for coffee and tea are 
not necessary to man's existence; but, you 
would like to sell your flour and pork, and 
would be very apt to discover reasons against a 
war that would prevent you from selling them. 
You appear to think it very wicked in the At- 
lantic People to feel little eagerness in promot- 
ing the increase of population to the Westward ; 
but, you see, that, in this want of such eagerness, 
they may be actuated by a real love for their 
country. For my part, 1 think it would have 
been good policy in the Congress not to dis- 
pose of the Western Lands at all ; and I am 
sure it would have been an act of real charity. - 

1030. Having now performed what I deemed 
my duty towards my countrymen, and towards 
this country too, 1 will conclude my letter with 
a few observations, relative to mills, which may 
be of use to you; for, I know, that you will go 
on; and, indeed, I most sincerely wish you all 
the success that you can wish yourself, without 
doing harm to others. 

1031. You have no mill streams near you; 
and you are about to erect a wind-mill. Man 
is naturally prone to call to his aid whatever 
will save his bones labour. The water, the 



^578 LETTER II. TO [PART III. 

wind^ the Jire: any thing that will help him. 
Cattle of some sort or other were, for a long 
while, his great resource. But, of late, water- 
powers, wind-powers, fire-powers. And, in- 
deed, wondrous things have been performed 
by machines of this kind. The water and the 
wind do 7wt eat, and require no grooming. 
But, it sometimes happens, that, when all 
things are considered, we resort to these grand 
powers without any necessity for it ; and that 
we forget h:ow easily we could do the thing we 
want done, with our own hands. The story, 
in Peregrine Pickle, about the Mechanic, who 
had invented a zvafer machine to cut off the 
head of a cabbage, hardly surpassed the reality 
in the case of the machine, brought out in 
England, some years ago, ^/br reaping wheat ; 
nor is it much less ridiculous to see people 
going n]any miles with grist to a mill, which 
grist they might so easily grind at home. The 
hand-mills, used in England, would be inva- 
luable with you, for a while, at least. 

1032. But, it is of a mill of more general 
utility, that I am now about to speak to you; 
and, I seriously recommend it to your consi- 
deration, as well as to other persons similarly 
situated. 

1033. At Botley I lived surrounded by water- 
mills and wind-mills. There were eight or ten 



PART III.] MORRIS BTRKBECK, ESQ. 579 

within five miles of me, and one at two hundred 
yards from my house. Still I thought, that it 
was a brutal sort of thing to be obliged to send 
twice to a mill, with all the uncertainties of 
the business, in order to have a sack of wheat 
or of barley ground. I sent for a mill-wright, 
and, after making all the calculations, I re- 
solved to have a mill in my farm yard, to grind 
for myself, and to sell my wheat in the shape 
of flour. I had the mill erected in a pretty 
little barn, well floored with oak, and standing 
upon stones with caps : so that no rats or mice 
could annoy me. The mill was to be moved 
by horses, for which, to shelter them from the 
wet, I had a shed with a circular roof erected 
on the outside of the barn. Under this roof, 
as well as I recollect, there was a large wheel, 
which the horses turned, and a bar, going from 
that "wheel, passed through into the barn, and 
there it put the whole machinery in motion. 
. 1034. I have no skill in mechanics. I do 
not, and did not, know one thing from another 
by its name. All I looked to was the effect; 
and this was complete. I had excellent flour. 
All my meal was ground at home. I was 
never bothered with sending to the mill. My 
ears were never after dinned with complaints 
about had flour and heavy head. It was the 
prettiest, most convenient, and most valuable 



580 LETTER II. TO [PART III. 

thing I had upon my farm. It was, 1 think, 
put up in 1816, and this was one of the plea- 
sures, from which the Borough-villains (God 
confound them !) drove me in 1817. I think it 
cost me about a hundred pounds. I forget, 
whether 1 had sold any flour from it to the 
Bakers. But, independent of that, it was very 
valuable. 1 think we ground and dressed 
2iho\xi forty bushels of wheat in a day ; and, we 
uSed to work at it on ivet days, and when we 
could not work in the fields. We never were 
stopped by want of wind or water. The 
horses were always ready ; and / know, that 
our grinding was done at one half the expence 
at which it was done by the millers. 

1035. The farmers and millers used to say, 
that 1 saved nothing by my mill. Indeed, gain 
vras not my object, except in convenience. I 
hated the sudden calls for going to the mill. 
They produced irregularity ; and, besides, the 
millers were not more honest than other people. 
Their mills contained all sorts of grain; and, 
in their confusion, we sometimes got bad flour 
from good wheat ; an accident that never hap- 
pened to us after we got our own mill. But, 
as to the gain, I have just received a letter 
from my son, informing me, that the gentle- 
man, a farmer born and bred, who rents my 
farm in my absence, sells no wheat; that he 



PART III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 581 

grinds all; that he sells flour all round the 
country ; and that this flour is preferred before 
that of the millers. I was quite delighted to 
hear this news of my little mill. It awakened 
many recollections ; and I immediately thought 
of communicating the facts to the public, and 
particularly to you. 

1036. You will observe, that my farm is si- 
tuated in the midst of mills. So that, you may 
be sure, that the thing answers, or it would 
not be carried on. If it were not attended with 
gain, it would not be put in motion. I was 
convinced, that any man might grind cheaper 
with a horse-mill than with a water or wind- 
mill, and now the fact is proved. For, observe, 
the mill costs nothing for scite; it occupies a 
very small space ; it is independent of wind and 
water ; no floods or gales can affect it. 

1037. Now, then, if such a mill be preferable 
to wind or water-mills in a place where both 
abound, how useful must it be in a situation 
like yours? Such a mill would amply supply 
about three hundred families, if kept constantly 
at work. And then, it is so much more con- 
venient than a windmill. A windmill is neces- 
sarily a most unhandy thing. The grain has 
to be hauled up and the flour let down. The 
building is a place of no capacity ; and, there 
is great danger attending the management of it 



582 LETTER II. TO [PART III. 

My project is merely a neat, close barn, stand- 
ing upon stones that rats and mice cannot 
creep up. The waggon comes to the door, 
the sacks are handed in and out; and every 
thing is so convenient and easily ])erformed, 
that it is a pleasure to behold it. 

1038. About the construction of the mill I 
know nothing. 1 know only the effect, and that 
it is worked by horses, in the manner that I 
have described. I had no Millei\ My Bailiff, 
whom 1 had made a Bailiff out of a Carpenter, 
I turned into a Miller: or, rather, I made him 
look after the thing. Any of the men, however, 
could do the millering very well. Any of them 
could make better flour than the water and 
wind-millers used to make for us. So that 
there is no mystery in the matter. 

10.39. This country abounds in excellent mill- 
wrights. The best, I dare say, in the world ; 
and, if I were settled here as a farmer in a 
large way, 1 would soon have a little mill, and 
send away my produce in flour instead of 
wheat. If a farmer has to send frequently to 
the mill, (and that he must do, if he have a 
great quantity of stock and a large family,) the 
very expence of sendmg will pay for a mill in 
two or three years. 

1040. 1 shall be glad if this piece of informa- 
tion should be of use to any body, and particu- 



PART III.] MORRIS BTRKBECK, ESQ. 583 

larly if it should be of any use in the Prairies ; 
for, God knows, you will have plague enough 
without sending to mill, which is, of itself, no 
small plague even in a Christian country. 
About the same strength that turns a threshing 
machine, turned my mill. I can give no in- 
formation about the construction. I know 
there was a hopper and stones, and that the 
thing made a clinking- noise like the water-mills. 
1 know that the whole affair occupied but a 
small space. My barn was about forty feet 
long and eighteen feet wide, and the mill stood 
at one end of it. The man who made it for 
me, and with whom I made a bargain in writ- 
ing, wanted me to agree to a specification of 
the thing ; but I declined having any thing to 
do with cogs and wheels, and persisted in sti- 
pulating for effects. And these were, that with 
a certain force of horses, it was to make so 
much fine flour in so long a time ; and this bar- 
gain he very faithfully fulfilled. The price 
was I think seventy pounds, and the putting 
up and altogether made the amount about a 
hundred pounds. There were no heavy timbers 
in any part of the thing. There was not a bit of 
wood, in any part of the construction, so big 
as my thigh. The whole thing might have 
been carried away, all at once, very conveni- 
ently, in one of my waggons. 



584 LETTER II. TO [PART III. 

1041. There is another thing, which I beg 
leave to recommend to your attention ; and that 
is, the use of the Broom-Corn Stalks as thatch. 
The coverings of barns and other out-houses 
with shingles makes them fiery hot in summer, 
so that it is dangerous to be at work in making 
mows near them in very hot weather. The heat 
they cause in the upper parts of houses, though 
there be a ceiling under them is intolerable, in 
the very hot iveather I always bring my bed 
down to the ground-floor. Thatch is cool. 
Cool in summer and warm in winter. Its in- 
conveniences are danger from fire and want of 
durability. The former is no great deal greater 
than that of shingles. The latter may be wholly 
removed by the use of the Broom-Corn Stalks. 
In England a good thatch of wheat-straw will 
last twelve or fifteen years. If this straw be 
reeded, as they do it in the counties of Dorset 
and Devon, it will last thirty years ; and it is 
very beautiful. The little town of Charmouth, 
which is all thatched, is one of the prettiest 
places I ever saw. What beautiful thatching 
might be made in this country, where the straw 
is so sound and so clean! A Dorsetshire 
thatcher might, upon this very island, make 
himself a decent fortune in a few years. They 
do cover barns with straw here sometimes; but 
how one of our thatchers would laugh at the 



PART III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 585 

work ! Let me digress here, for a moment, to 
ask you if you have got a sow-spay er? We have 
no such man here. What a k)ss arises from 
this ! What a plague it is. We cannot keep a 
whole farrow of pigs, unless we breed from all 
the sows ] They go away : they plague us to 
death. Many a man in England, now as poor 
as an owlet, would (if he kept from the infernal 
drink) become rich here in a short time. These 
sow-gelders, as they call them, swarm in Eng- 
land. Any clown of a fellow follows this call- 
ing, which is hardly two degrees above rat- 
catching and mole-catching: and yet there is 
no such person here, where swine are so numer- 
ous, and where so many millions are fatted for 
exportation ! It is very strange. 

1042. To return to the thatching: Straw is 
not so durable as one could wish : besides, in 
very high winds, it is liable, if not reededy to be 
ruffed a good deal ; and the reeding, which its 
almost like counting the straws one by one, is 
expensive. In England we sometimes thatch 
with reedsy which in Hampshire, are called 
spear. This is an aquatic plant. It grows in 
the tvater, and will grow no where else. When 
stout it is of the thickness of a small cane at 
the bottom, and is about four or five feet long. 
I have seen a thatch of it, which, with a little 
patching, had lasted upwards oi fifty years. In 



586 LETTER II. TO [PART III. 

gentlemen's gardens, there are sometimes hedges 
or screens made of these reeds. They last, if 
well put up, half a century, and are singularly 
neat, while they parry the wind much better 
than paling or walls, because there is no eddy 
proceeding from their repulsion. They are ge- 
nerally put round those parts of the garden 
where the hot-beds are. 

1043. Now, the Broom-Corn far surpasses 
the reeds in all respects. I intend, m my 3ook 
on Gardenifig, to give a full account of the ap- 
plicability of this plant to garden-uses both 
here and in England ; for, as to the reeds^ they 
can seldom be had, and a screen of them 
comes, in most parts of England, to more money 
thati a paling of oak. But, the Broom-Corn ! 
What an useful thing! What quantities upon 
an acre of land ! Ten feet higk^ and more 
durable than reeds ! The seed-stems, with a bit 
of the stem of the plant, make the brooms. 
These, 1 hear, are now sent to England. I have 
often talked of it in England as a good traffic. 
We here sweep stables and streets v^'iiXi what 
the English sweep their carpets with ! You 
can buy as good a broom at New York for 
eight pence sterling as you can buy in London 
for five shillings sterling, and the freight cannot 
exceed two-pence or three-pence, if sent with- 
out handles. 1 bought a clothes-brush, an 



PART III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 587 

English clothes-brush, the other day for three 
shillings sterling. It was made of a farthing's 
ivorth of alder ivood and of half a farthing's 
ivorth of Broom-Corn. An excellent brush. 
Better than bristles. 1 have Broom-Corn and 
Seed-Stems enough to make fifty thousand 
such brushes. I really think 1 shall send it to 
England. It is now lying about my barn, and 
the chickens are living upon the seeds. This 
plant demands greater heat even than the 
Indian Corn. It would hardly ripen its seed in 
England. Indeed it would not. But, if well 
managed, it would produce a prodigious crop 
of materials for reed-hedges and thatch. It is of 
a substance (I mean the main stalk) between 
that of a cane and that of a reed. It has joints 
precisely like those of the canes, Avhich you 
may have seen the Boroughmongers' sons and 
footmen strut about with, called bamboos. The 
seed-stalks, which make the brooms and brushes, 
might not get so inature in England as to be so 
good as they are here for those uses : but, I 
have no doubt, that, in any of the Avarm lands 
in Surry, or Kent, or Hampshire, a man might 
raise upon an acre a crop worth several hmidred 
pounds. The veri/ stout stalks, if properly har- 
vested and applied, would last nearly as long 
as the best hurdle rods. What beautiful screens 
they would make in gardens and pleasure 

2 T 



588 LETTER II. TO [PART III. 

grounds ! Ten feet long, and straight as a gun 
stick ! I shall send some of the seed to Eng- 
land this year, and cause a trial to be made ; 
and I will, in my Gardening Book, give full in- 
structions for the cultivation. Of this book, 
which will be published soon, I would, if you 
lived in this world, send you a copy. These 
are the best uses of maritime intercourse: the 
interchange of plants, animals, and improve- 
ments of all sorts. I am doing my best to re- 
pay this country for the protection which it has 
given me against our indemnified tyrants. "Cob- 
" bett's pigs and Swedish Turnips" will be 
talked of long after the bones of Ellenborougb, 
Gibbs, Sidmouth, Castlereagh and Jenkinson 
will be rotten, and their names forgotten, ^or 
only remembered when my " trash" shall. 

1044. This is a rambling sort of Letter. 1 
now come back to the Broom-Corn for thatch. 
Sow it in rows about five feet asunder; or, ra- 
ther, on ridges, a foot wide at the top, with an 
interval of ^ve feet; let the plants stand all 
over this foot wide, at about three inches apart, 
or less. Keep the plants clear of weeds by a 
couple of weedings, and plough well between 
the ridges three or four times during the sum- 
mer. This will make the plants grow tall, 
while their closeness to each other will make 
them small in thickness of stem or stalk. It 



PART III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 589 

will bring them to about the thichness of fine 
large reeds in England, and to about twice the 
length; and, 1 will engage, that a large barn 
may be covered, by a good thatcher, with the 
stalks, in two days, and that the covering shall 
last for fifty years. Only think of the price of 
shingles and nails ! Only think of the cost of 
tiles in England ! Only think of the expence 
of drawing or of reeding straw in England ! 
Only think of going into the water to colh^ct 
reeds in England, even where they are to be 
had at all, which is in a very few places ! The 
very first thing that I would do, if 1 were to 
settle in a place where I had buildings to erect, 
would be to sow some Broom-Corn ; that is to 
say, sow some roofs. What a fine thing this 
would be upon the farms in England ! What a 
convenient thing for the cottagers ! Thatch for 
their pretty little houses, for their styes, for 
their fuel-house, their cow-shed ; and brooms 
into the bargain ; for, though the seed would 
not ripeny and though the broom-part would 
not be of the best quality, it would be a thousand 
times better than heath. The seed might be 
sent from this country, and, though the Bo- 
rough-villains would tax it, as their rapacious 
system does EVEN THE SEEDS OF 
TREES ; yet, a small quantity of seed would 
suffice. 

2 T 2 



590 LETTER II. TO [PART III. 

J 045. As an ornamental plant nothing equals 
this. The Indian Corn is far inferior to it in this 
respect. Planted by the side of walks in gar- 
dens, what beautiful avenues it would make for 
the summer! J have seen the plants eighteen 
feet and a half high. I always wanted to get 
some seed in England ; but, [ never could. My 
friends thought it too childish and tvhimsical a 
thing to attend to. If the plant should so far 
co*fle to perfection in England as to yield thfe' 
broom-materials, it will be a great thing ; and, 
if it fall short of that, it will certainly surpass 
reeds for thatching and screening purposes, for 
sheep-yards, and for various other uses. How- 
ever, I have no doubt of its producing brooms; 
for, the Indian Corn, though only certain sorts 
of it will ripen its seed even in Hampshire, will 
always come into bloom, and, in the Broom- 
Corn, it is the little stalks, or branches, out of 
which the flower comes, that makes the broom. 
If the plant succeed thus far in England, you 
may be sure that the Borough-villains will tax 
the brooms, until their system be blown to 
atoms ; and, I should not wonder if they were 
to make the broom, like hops, an article of 
excise, and send their spies into people's fields 
and gardens to see that the revenue was not 
*' defrauded." Precious villains ! They stand 
between the people and all the gifts of nature ! 
But this cannot last. 



PART III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 591 

1046. I am happy to tell you, that Ellenho- 
rough and Gibhs have retired/ 111 health is 
the 2)retence. 1 never yet knew ill health in- 
duce such fellows to loosen their grasp of the 
public purse. But, be it so : then I feel plea- 
sure on that account. To all the other pangs 
of body and mind let them add tliat of know- 
ing, that William Cobbett, whom they thought 
they h aid put down for ever, if not killed, lives 
to rejoice at their pains and their death, to 
trample on their graves, and to hand down 
their names for the just judgment of posterity. 
What! are these feelings wrong? Are they 
sinful? What defence have we, then, against 
tyranny? If the oppressor be not to experience 
the resentment of the oppressed, let us at once 
acknowledge the divine right of tyranny ; for, 
what has tyrainny else to fear? . Who has it to 
fear, but those whom it has injured? It is the 
aggregate of individual injury that makes up 
national injury : it is the aggregate of individual 
resentment that makes up national resentment. 
National resentment is absolutely necessary to, 
the producing -of redress for oppression; and, 
therefore, to say that individual resentment is 
wrong, is to say, that there ought to be no re- 
dress for oppression: iit- is, in short, to pass a> 
sentence of iievei"»-ending slavery on all man- 
kind. Some Local Militia men; young fellows 



592 LETTER II. TO [PART III. 

who had been compelled to become soldiers, 
and who had no knowledge of military disci- 
pline ; who had, by the Act of Parliament, been 
promised a guinea each before they marched ; 
who had refused to march because the guinea 
had not been wholly paid them; some of these 
young men, these mere boys, had, for this mu- 
tiny, as it was called, been flogged at Ely in 
Cambridgeshire, under a guard of German 
bayonets and sabres. At this I expressed my 
indignation in the strongest terms; and, for doing 
this, I was put for two years into a jail along 
with men convicted of unnatural crimes, rob- 
bery^ and under charge of murder, and where 
AsTLET was, who was under sentence of death. 
To this was added a fine of a thousand pounds 
sterling; and, when the two years should ex- 
pire, bonds for the peace and good behaviour for 
seven years I The seven years are not yet ex- 
pired. 1 will endeavour to be of " good be- 
" haviour'' for the short space that is to come; 
and, 1 am sure, I have behaved well for the 
past; for never were seven years of such efiH^ 
cient exertion seen in the life of any individual. 
1047. The tyrants are hard pushed now. 
The Bank Notes are their only ground to stand 
en ; and that ground will be moved from under 
them in a little time. Strange changes since 
you left England, short as the time has been I 



PART III.] MORRIS BIRKBECK, ESQ. 593 

I am fully of opinion, that my four years which 
I gave the system at my coming away, will see 
the end of it. There can be no more vmr car- 
ried on by them. I see they have had Baring, 
of Loan-notoriety at the Holy Alliance-Con- 
gress. He has been stipulating for a supply of 
paper-money. They should have got my con- 
sent to let the paper-money remain ; for, / can 
destroy it whenever I please. All sorts of pro- 
jects are on foot. " Illimitable Notes ;" paying 
in specie by weight of metal. Oh ! the wond- 
rous fools ! A sudden blow-up ; or, a blow-up 
somewhat slow, by ruin and starvation ; one of 
these must come; unless they speedily reduce 
the interest of the Debt; and even that will not 
save the seat-dealers. 

1048. In the meanwhile let us enjoy ourselves 
here amongst this kind and hospitable people ; 
but, let us never forget, that England is our 
country, and that her freedom and renown 
ought to be as dear to us as the blood in our 
veins. God bless you, and give you health 
and happiness. 

Wm. cobbett. 



594 



POSTSCRIPT. 



RUTA BAGA; or, SWEDISH TURNIP. 

To the Editor of the New York Evening Post. 

Hyde Park, Long-Island, 
3d Jan. 1S19. 

Sir, 

1049. My publications of last year, on the 
amount of the crops of Rnta Baga, were, by 
many persons, considered romantic ; or, at best, 
a good deal strained. 1 am happy, therefore, 
to be able to communicate to the public, 
through your obliging columns, a letter from 
an American farmer on the subject. You may 
remember, if you did me the honour to read my 
Treatise on the cultivation of this root (in Part 
I. of the Year's Residence), that I carried the 
amount of my best Botley-crops r±o higher than 
one thousand three hundred bushels to the acre. 
The following interesting letter will, 1 think, 
convince every one, that [ kept, in all my state- 
ments, below the mark. Here we have an 
average weight of roots of six pounds and a 
half. 



PART III.] POSTSCRIPT. 595 

1050. I beg Mr. TowNSEND to accept of my 
best thanks for his letter, wliich has given rne 
very great satisfaction, and which, wili^ I am 
sure, be of great use in promoting tlae; cultiva- 
tion of this valuable root. 

1051. Many gentlemen have written to me 
with regard to the mode of preserving the Huta. 
Baga. I have, in the SECOND PART of my 
Yeai^'s Residence, which will be puljlished at 
New York, in a few days, given a very full ac- 
count of this matter. i^ ijj\ 

I am, Sir, your most humble .;,,(jo' 

And most obedient seryantjini 

Wm.COBB£T3!4 

■'.vnr {|{irriil nofnfiio::i 
New York, Dec. SO, 1818. 

Dear Sir, 

1052. I TAKE the liberty of sending to ypu 
the following experiments upon the culture of 
your Ruta Baga, made by my uncle, Isaac, 
Townsend, Esq. of Orange county, in this state. 
The seeds were procured from your stock, and 
the experiments, 1 think, will tend to corroborate 
the sentiments which you have so laudably and 
so successfully inculcated on the subject of this 
interesting article of agriculture. tiYCHfrO. 

J 053. A piece of strong dry loam ten feet. 
square on the N. E. side of a mountain in Mp-r 
reau township, Orange county, was thoroughly . 



696 POSTSCRIPT. [part III. 

cleared of stones, and dug up twelve inches 
deep, on the 10th of June last; it was then co- 
vered by a mixture of ten bushels of charcoal 
dust and twenty bushels of black swamp mould, 
which was well harrowed in. About the 9th of 
July it was sown with your Ruta Baga in drills 
of twenty inches apart, the turnips being ten 
inches distant from each other. They came up 
badly and were weeded out on the 10th of 
August. On the 15th of August a table-spoon- 
ful of ashes was put round every turnip, wliich 
operation was repeated on the 20th of Septem- 
ber. The ground was kept perfectly clean 
through the whole season. Six seeds of the 
common turnip were by accident dropped into 
the patch, and received the same attention as 
the rest. These common turnips weighed two 
pounds a piece. The whole yield of the Ruta 
Baga was three bushels, each turnip weighing 
from four to eight pounds. The roots pene- 
trated about twelve inches into the ground, al- 
though the season was remarkably dry. 

1054. A piece of rich, moist, loamy land, 
containing four square rods, was ploughed 
twice in June, and the seeds of your Ruta 
Baga sown on the 4th of July in broad cast, and 
kept clean through the season. This patch pro- 
duced tiventy-Jive bushels of turnips, each turnip 
weighing from four to nine pounds. This, you 



PART III.] POSTSCRIPT. 597 

perceive, is at the enormous rate of 1000 bushels 
an acre ! 

1055. It is Mr. Townsend's opinion, that on 
some of the soils of Orange County your Ruta 
Baga may be made to yield 1500 bushels an 
acre. 

I remain, with much respect. 
Your obedient servant, 

P. S. TOWNSEND. 

William Cobbett, Esq. 

Hjfdt Park, Long Island. 



598 f.iii in//! 



SECOND POSTSCRIPT 



FEAROIN'S FALSEHOODS. 

To the Editor of the National Advocate, 

Hj/de Park, Jan. 9th, 1819. 

Sir, 

1056. Before I saw your paper of the day 
before yesterday, giving some extracts from a 
book published in England by one Fearon, I 
had written part of the following article, and 
had prepared to send it home as part of a Re- 
gister, of which J send one every week. Your 
paper enabled me to make an addition to the 
article ; and, in the few words below, 1 have 
this day sent the whole off to be published in 
London. If you think it worth inserting, I beg 
you to have the goodness to give it a place ; and 
I beg the same favour at the hands of all those 
editors who may have published Fearon's ac- 
count of what he calls his visit to me. 
I am. Sir, 

Your most obedient. 

And most humble servant, 

Wm. cobbett. 



PART III.] SECOND POSTSCRIPT. 599 

1057. There is, I am told, one Fearon, who 
has gone home and written and published a 
book, abusing this country and its people in the 
grossest manner. I only hear of it by letter. I 
hear, also, that he speaks of me as if he knew 
me. I will tell you how far he knew me : I 
live at a country house 20 miles from New 
York. One morning, in the summer of 1817, a 
young man came into the hall, and introduced 
himself to me under the name of Fearon. The 
following I find about him in my journal: — 
" A Mr. Fearon came this morning and had 
" breakfast with us. Told us an odd story 
" about having slept in a black woman's hut 
" last night for sixpence, though there are excel- 
*' lent taverns at every two miles along the road. 
*' Told us a still odder story about his being an 
" envoy from a host of families in London, to 
*' look out for a place of settlement in America ; 
" but he took special care 7iot to name any one 
" of those families, though we asked him to do 
*' it. We took him, at first, for a sort of spy, 
" William thinks he is a shopkeeper's clerk; 1 
" think he has been a tailor. I observed that he 
*' carried his elbow close to his sides, and his 
"arms, below the elbow, in a horizontal posi- 
" tion. It came out that he had been with 
" Buchanan, Castlereagh's consul at New 
" York ; but it is too ridiculous ;. such a thing 



(300 SECOND POSTSCRIPT. [PART III. 

*' as this cannot be a spy; he can get access no 
** where but to taverns and boarding houses." 

1058. This note now stands in my journal or 
diary of 22d August, 1817. I remember that 
he asked me some very silly questions about 
the prices of land, cattle, and other things, 
which 1 answered very shortly. He asked my 
advice about the families emigrating, and the 
very words I uttered in answer, were these: 
*' Every thing I can say, in such a case, is to 
" discourage the enterprize. If Englishmen 
" come here, let them come individually, and 
" sit down amongst the natives : no other plan 
" is rational." 

1059. What I have heard of this man since, 
is, that he spent his time, or great part of it, 
in New York, amongst the idle and dissolute 
young Englishmen, whose laziness and extra- 
vagance had put them in a state to make them 
uneasy, and to make them unnoticed by re- 
spectable people. That country must be bad^ 
to be sure, which would not give them ease 
and abundance without labour or economy. 

1060. Now, what can such a man know of 
America ? He has not kept house ; he has had 
no being* in any neighbourhood ; he has never 
had any circle of acquaintances amongst the 
people; he has never been a guest under any of 
their roofs ; he knows nothing of their manners 



PART III.] SECOND POSTSCRIPT. 601 

or their characters ; and how can such a man 
be a judge of the effects of their institutions, 
civil, political, or religious? 

1061. I have no doubt, however, that the re- 
vieivs and neivspapers, in the pay of the Borough- 
mongers, will do their best to propagate the 
falsehoods contained in this man's book. But 
what would you say of the people of America, 
if they were to affect to believe what the French 
General said of the people of England ? This 
man, in a book which he published in France, 
said, that all the English married women got 
drunk^ and swore like troopers; and that all 
the young women were strumpets, and that the 
greater part of them had bastards before they 
were married. Now, if the people of America 
were to affect to believe this^ what should we 
say of them? Yet, this is just as true as this 
Fearon's account of the people of America. 

1062. As to the facts of this man's visit to wie, 
my son William, who is, by this time, in Lon- 
don, can and will vouch for their truth at any 
time, and, if necessary, to Fearon's face, if 
Fearon has a face which he dares show. 

1063. Since writing the above, the New York 
papers have brought me a specimen of Mr. 
Fearon's performance. I shall notice only his 
account of his visit to me. It is in the follow- 
ing words : 



602 SECOND POSTSCRIPT. [PART III» 

1064. "A Visit to 3fr.CobbeU.—VponaYY'\\mg 
at Mr. Coljbett's gate, my feelings, in walking 
along the path which led to the residence of 
this celebrated man are difficult to describe. 
The idea of a person self-banished, leading an 
isolated life in a foreign land ; a path rarely 
Xvo^, fences in ruins, the gate broken, a house 
mouldering to decay, added to much awk- 
wardness of feeling on my part, calling upon 
an entire stranger, produced in my mind feel- 
ings of thoughtfulness and melancholy. I 
would fain almost have returned without en- 
tering the wooden mansion, imagining that its 
possessor would exclaim, ' What intruding 
fellow is here coming to break in upon my 
pursuits?' But these difficulties ceased almost 
with their existence. A female servant (an 
English woman) informed me that her master 
was from home, attending at the county court. 
Her language was natural enough for a per- 
son in her situation; she pressed me to walk 
in, being quite certain that I was her country- 
man ; and she was so delighted to see an Eoig- 
lishman, instead of those nasty guessing Yan- 
kees. Following my guide through the 
kitchen, (the floor of which, she asserted, 
was imbedded ivith ttvofeet of dirt when Mr. 
Cobbett came there — (it had been previously 
in the occupation of Americans) I was con- 



PART III.] SECOND POSTSCRIPT. 603 

" ducted to a front parlour, which contained 
" but a single chair and several trunks of sea- 
" clothes. Mr. Cobbett's first question on 
" seeing me was, * Are you an American, sir?' 
" then, ' What were my objects in the United 
" States ? Was I acquainted with the friends 
" of liberty in London? How lonaj had I left?' 
" &c. He was immediately familiar. I was 
" pleasingly disappointed with the general tone 
" of his manners. Mr. Cobbett thinks meanly 
" of the American people, but spoke highly of 
" the economy of their government. — He does 
" not advise persons in respectable circum- 
" stances to emigrate, even in the present state 
" of England. In his opinion a family who 
** can barely live upon their property, will 
*^ more consult their happiness by not removing 
" to the United States. He almost laughs at 
" Mr. Sirkheck's settling in the western coun- 
*' try. This being the first time I had seen this 
" well-known character, I viewed him with no 
" ordinary degree of interest. A print by Bar- 
*' tolozzi, executed in J801, conveys a correct 
" outline of his person. His eyes are small, 
" and pleasingly good natured. To a French 
" gentleman present, he was attentive ; with 
" his sons, familiar; to ids servants, easy; but 
" to all, in his tone and manner, resolute and 
" determined. He feels no hesitation in prais- 

2u 



604 SECOND POSTSCRIPT. [PART III. 

" ing himself, and evidently believes that he is 
" eventually destined to be the Atlas of the Bri- 
" tish nation. His faculty of rekititig anec- 
*' dotes is amusing. Instances when we meet. 
" My impressions of Mr. Cobbett are, that 
" those who know him would like him, if they 
" can be content to submit unconditionally to 
" his dictation. * Obey me, and I will treat you 
" kindly ; if you do not, I will trample on you,' 
" seemed visible in every word and feature. 
" He appears to feel, in its fullest force, the 
" sentiment, 

' I have no brother, am like no brother: 
' I am myself alone.' " 

1065. It is unlucky for this blade, that the 
parties are alive. First — let the " English wo- 
" ma7i' speak for herself, which she does, in 
these words : 

1066. I remember, that, about a week after 
1 came to Hyde Park, in 1817, a man came 
to the house in the evening, when Mr. Cobbett 
was out, and that he came again the next 
morning. I never knew, or asked, what coun- 
tryman he was. He came to the back door. 
I first gave him a chair in a back-room ; but, 
as he was a slippery-looking young man, and 
as it was growing late, my husband thought it 
was best to bring him down into the kitchen, 



PART III.] SECOND POSTSCRIPT. 605 

where he staid till he went away. I had no 
talk with him. 1 could not know what condi- 
tion Mr. Cobbett found the house in, for I did 
not come here 'till the middle of August. I 
never heard whether the gentleman that lived 
here before Mr. Cobbett, was an American, or 
not. I never in my life said a word against 
the people or the country : I am very glad I 
came to it ; I am doing very well in it ; and 
have found as good and kind friends amongst 
the Americans, as I ever had in all my life. 

Mary Ann Churcher. 

Hyde Park, 
Sth January, 1S19. 

1067. Mrs. Churcher puts me in mind, that 
I asked her what sort of a looking man it was, 
and that she said he looked like an Exciseman, 
and that Churcher exclaimed : " Why, you 
** fool, they don't have any Excisemen and such 
" fellows here !" — I never was at a county co2irt 
in America in my life. I was out shooting. 
As to the house, it is a better one than he ever 
entered, except as a lodger or a servant, or to 
cany home work. The path, so far from being 
trackless, was as beaten as the highway. — The 
gentleman who lived here before me was an 
Efiglishman, whose name was Crow. But only 
think o^ dirt, two feet deep, in a kitchen ! All is 
false. — The house was built by Judge Ludlow. 



606 SECOND POSTSCRIPT. [PART III. 

It is large, and very sound and commodious. 
The avenues of trees before it the most beauti- 
ful that 1 ever saw. The orchard, the fine 
shade and fine grass all about the house ; the 
abundant garden, the beautiful turnip field ; the 
M^hole a subject worthy of admiration ; and not 
a single draw-back. A hearty, unostentatious 
welcome from me and my sons. A breakfast 
such, probably, as the fellow will never eat 
again. — I leave the public to guess, whether it 
be likely, that I should give a chap like this my 
opinions a.bout government or people! Just as if 
I did not know the people ! Just as if they were 
new to me ! The man was not in the house half 
an hour in the morning. Judge, then, what he 
could know of my manners and character. He 
was a long time afterwards at JNew York. 
Would he not have been here a second time, if 
I had been familiar enough to relate anecdotes 
to him ? Such blades are not backward in re- 
newing their visits whenever they get but a lit- 
tle encouragement. — He, in another part of the 
extracts that I have seen, complains of the re- 
serve of the American ladies. No ** social in- 
" tercottrse" he says, between the sexes. That 
is to say, he could find none ! I'll engage he 
could not; 3t.mongst the whites, at least. It is 
hardly possible for me to talk about the public 
affairs of England and not to talk of some of my 



PART III.] SECOND POSTSCRIPT. 607 

own acts ; but is it not monstrous to suppose, 
that 1 should praise myself, and show that I be- 
lieved myself destined to be the Atlas of the 
British nation, in my conversation of a few mi- 
nutes with an utter stranger, and that, too, a 
blade whom I took for a decent tailor, my son 
William for a shop-keeper's clerk, and Mrs. 
Churcher, with less charity, for a slippery young 
man, or, at best, for an Exciseman ? — As I said 
before, such a man can know nothing of the 
people of America. He has no channel through 
which to get at them. And, indeed, why should 
he! Can he go into the families of people at 
home ! Not he, indeed, beyond his own low 
circle. Why should he do it here, then ? Did 
he think he was coming here to live at free 
quarter? The black woman's hut, indeed, he 
might force himself into with impunity ; six- 
pence would insure him a reception there ; but, 
it would be a shame, indeed, if such a man 
could be admitted to unreserved intercourse 
with American ladies. Slippery as he was, he 
could not slide into their good graces, and into 
the possession of their fathers' soul-subduing 
dollars ; and so he is gone home to curse the 
** nasty guessing Americans'' 

Wm. cobbett. 



INDEX TO PART 1. 



Apples exchanged for turnips, March 31st. 

Fall-Pipin, description of, Oct. 7th, 

Buckwheat, time for sowing, July 23rd. — Time for cutting, 
Oct. 6th. 

Barns, very fine in Pennsylvania, Feb. 16th. 

Beans, kidney, green, in market, Oct. 11th. 

Board of Agriculture, par. 117. 

Birkbeck, Mr. par. 16, Jan. 2lst, Feb. 23rd, March llth. 

Burdett, Sir F. March 12th, par. 98. 

Candles, home made, remarks on, Dec. 25th. 

Climate, May 5th, 1817, to April 24th, 1818. 

Corporations, as law-givers, Feb. 28th. 

Curwen, Mr. par. 68, 69, 121, 123. 

Cartwright, Major, par. 111. 

Cramp, Mr. par. 117, 132. 

Castlereagh, par. 120. 

Disciples, ears of corn that they plucked, June 3rd. 

Dress whereby to judge of the weather, June 16tb, July 
10th, Sept. 18th— 28th, Oct. llth— 22nd, Nov. llth, 
March 2lst. 

Dews, equal to showers, July 29th, Jan. 13th. 

England, neatness of its inhabitants, par. 18. — Wetness of the 
climate, July 24th. — Population of, shifted, and not aug- 
mented, by the Funding System, Feb. 16th. 

Fences on Long Island, par. 16. 

Flies and musquitoes, bred by filth, June 19th, July 14. 

Fowls ought to be kept warm, Jan. 4th, March 15th. 

Farms, description of, on Long Island, par. 22. 

houses in Pennsylvania, Feb. 16th. 

Fruits, dried, March 31st. 

Flowers, want of, in America, par. 22. 

Fortescue, Feb. 16th. 

Freemantle, Mr. Nicholas, March 1st. 

Gauntlet, Mr. W., his pigs, par. 101. 

Harvest earlier than in England, par. 19. — Description of, 
July 24th. 



INDEX. 609 

Hops grows well in x^merica, Feb. 7th. 

Hedges not found in America, March 11th. 

HeaUh, par. 23. 

Hagar, prayer of, Feb. 16th. 

Harrisburg, description of, living at, Jan. 35th — 27th. 

Hulme, Mr., Feb. 15th— 20th. 

Hinxman, Mr. Richard, March 1st. 

Hardwicke, Lord, par. 119. 

Indian corn described, June 3rd. 

Locusts that John the Baptist lived on, June 3rd. 

Long Island, description of, par. 12 to 15. — Its nearness to 

the sea an advantage in summer, June 14th. 
Lancaster, description of, Jan. 22nd, Feb. 12th — 16th. 
Livingstone, Mr. Chancellor, par. 25, 27. 
Mangel Wurzel, an indifferent root, par. 28. 
Moses, July 24th. 
Maseres, Mr. Baron, Dec. 16th. 
M'Kean, Judge, Jan. 10th. 
M'AlUster, Mr., Jan. 28th. 
Malthus, Parson, Feb. 16tb. 

New Jersey, in comparison to Pennsylvania, March lltli. 
Newbold, Mr., March 11th. 
Oliver, the spy, March 2nd. 
Ploughing, principles of, par. 121 to 125. 
Peas, fit to gather June 18th. — Ripe in 40 days. — Green, in 

market, Oct. 11th. 
Puddings of apple, July 9th, August 23rd. 
Philadelphia, remarks on, Jan. 15th. 

--Thras,}-'»''-l«"', March 9.h. 

Penn, William, Feb. 16th. 

Pendrill, Mr., March 1st. 

Perry, Mr. James, par. 21. 

Pitt, par. 117. 

Quakers, hospitality of, March lOth. — Bad gardeners, March 
11th. 

River Delaware, Jan. 13th, Feb. 20th. 

Susquehannah, Jan. 25th, Feb. 1st. 

Radish, very large, Oct. 28th. 

Ruta Baga, description of the plant, par. 25 to 30. — Mode 
of saving and of preserving the seed, par. 31 to 36. — 
Time of sowing, par. 37 to 44. — Quality and prepara- 
tion of the seed, par. 45 to 49. — Manner of sowing, par. 
50 to 55. -^After-culture, par. 56 to 64. — Transplanting, 
par. 65 to 103. — Time and manner of harvesting, par, 104 
to 114. — Quality of the crop, par. 115 to 156. 



610 ' INDEX, 

Roscoe, Mr., March 26th. 

Rousseau, March 26lh. 

Stones, a barometer, August 7th. 

Singing-birds, none in America, par. 23. 

Shoes need never be nailed, March 31st. 

Scavengers substituted by hogs, Feb. 2Sth. 

Stock, prices of. May 20th, Dec. 15th. 

of provisions at breaking up of winter, par. 21. 

Severne, Mr., March 1st. 
Stevens, Mr., March 2nd. 



Steam 7 . , -_, 

Team \ ^•'^^^' P^""' ^^- 



Threshing, mode of, July 24th. 
Travelling, author's, March 11th to 13th. 
Trenton, laziness of the young men, March Uth. 
Taverns, Slaymaker's, living at, Feb. 12th. 

charges very reasonable, March 11th. 

Taylor, Mr. Antony, March 11th. 

Tull, par. 60, 68, 121, 124. 

Vegetation, how vigorous, July 29th. — Continues very late, 

Nov. 16th.— State of it in April, par. 21. 
Vere, March 1st. 

Woodcocks, time of coming, July 26th. 
Western countries, folly of going to, par. 96. — The people 

dirty, Jan. 2l8t. 
Winter of America preferable to that of England, Mar. 31st. 
- does not set in till the ponds are full. 

Dec. 14th. 
Woods of America, beautiful, par. 15. 
Woods, Mr., par. 101. 
Yankee family, migration of, March l2th. 
Yoke, single, for oxen, (plate of it), par. 124. 
Young, Arthur, Sept. 9th. par. 117, 118. 



Printed by J. M'Creery, 

Blaek-IIorse-Court, Fleet-Street, London. 



INDEX TO PART II. 



IJENTHAM, Jerry, par. 406. 

Byrd, Mr. James, par. 233. 

Brown, Mr. Timothy, par. 286. 

Burdett, Sir Francis, par. 409. 

Cabbages, experiments as to in 1818, par. 165. — Degene- 
rating of the seed, 168. — Mode of preserving during win- 
ter, 171. — Savoy-cabbages, pecuhar uses of, 173. — Pre- 
fei-able sorts, 176. — Time and manner of sowing and of 
planting, 180 to 187. 

Cauhflowers, nicety as to time of planting of, &c. par. 167. 

Cows, in their yield much depends upon the milking, 301. 

Connecticut, state of, her new constitution, par. 406. — Her 
law of libel, 421. 

Cobbett, William, answer to Mr. Judge Mitchell, 259. 

Christian, Mr. Professor, par. 400. 

Drennan, Doctor, par. 267. 

Earth-burning, as manure for buck-wheat, par. 195. — For 
Swedish turnips, 197. — Different modes of; paring and 
burning a bad one, 200. — Mode recommended ; directions 
for it, 204. 

Expences of house-keeping — House-rent, fuel, and meat, 
par. 328.— Bread, 329.— Cheese, 330.— Groceries, 331.— 
Fish, 332.— Fruit, 334.— Drink, 335.— Plenty in general, 
333.— Wearing apparel, 336.— Household furniture, 339.— 
Horses, carriages and harness, 338. — Dumestic servants, 
339 to 341. 

Fortescue, par. 251. 

Fencing, 1 Author's intention to treat upon these sub- 
Gardening, 3 jects, par. 162. 

Government, laws and religion — Sketch of the state govern- 
ments, par. 402. — Suffrage, or qualifications of electors, 
404. — Laws; founded upon common law of England,412, — 
Law of libel, as it is in the state of New York, 418, and 
in that of Connecticut, 421. — Taxes and priests — compa- 
rison between America and England in this respect, 422 
2 X 



612 INDEX. 

to 448. — Same salt that is made in Hampshire, and costs 
there 195. is bought in America for 2s. 6d. ; same tobacco 
that costs 3 shillings in England costs only 3 cents at New 
York. No four-in-hand county collectors, no window- 
peepers, no Parson to peep into the hen-roost ; no penalty 
for having a hop-plant in the garden; no fine and impri- 
sonment for dipping rushes into grease ; no tenth egg ; no 
tenth pig, no tenth sheaf of corn to the priest. 

Improvements, prejudice against, amongst farmers, par. 189. 

Ireland, Young, whose plays were acted for Shakspeare's, 
par. 270. 

Judges, description of them as a class, in America, par. 264. 

Liberty of the press, the only guardian over private life, 
par. 418. 

Live-stock, as accompanied by the culture of roots — Cows 
and sheep, advantage of having roots and greens for them 
in winter, par. 293, 294. — Hogs ; best stock for root- 
feeding, 295. — Common way of keeping them, bad, 301. — 
Sagacity of the hog, 301. — Rearing, b'est method, 303. — 
Tenderness, as to cold, 308. — Poultry, mischievous to 
crops, 309. 

Lawrence, Mr. Judge, par. 264. 

Ley, Ben, par. 372. 

Mangel Wurzel, an inconvenient crop, par. 179. 

Manners, customs and character of the people, founded on 
the English, par. 342. — Respect not commanded by 
wealth, 343. — No hypocrisy, there being no cause for it, 
346. — Living, in comparison with that now in England, 
349 to 353. — Character and accomplishments of the 
women, 354. — Character of the people in general, 356. — 
The great and seemingly only evil, drinking, 359. 

Milton, the fashion to extol his writings, par. 270. 

Mitchell, Mr. Judge, his experiment in a letter to the 
Author, par. 248. 

New York, state of, law of libel in, par. 418. 

■ — — , City of, described, par. 435. 

Potatoes, reasons why it is a root worse than useless, in a 
letter to the Editor of the Agricultural Magazine, par. 
269. — Comparative yield of human sustenance from an 
acre of them and from one of wheat, 287. — As food for 
cattle, the worst of all crops, 292. 

Prices of land, par. 310 to 312— of labour, par. 313 to 322 
— of cattle and implements, par. 323. 

Paupers and beggars, who and what they are in America, 
389 to 399. 

Piiillips, Sir R. par. 372. 



INDEX. , 613 

Rural sports — defended against the canters about cruelty and 
the Pythagoreans, par. 369, 372. — Description of the 
sports in America, and of the game, 377. — Game-laws, 
none, except as to the times of killing, 388. 

Swedish turnips, or Ruta Baga, additional experience in the 
mode of sowing, par. 226. — Care to be used in planting, 
228.— Cultivation of now becoming general, 232.<— Effects 
of ploughing between, and use of the greens, as expe- 
rienced bv Mr. Byrd, 235.— Fly and caterpillar, modes 
of preventing them, 237 to 239.— Mode of keeping during 
winter, 240. Saving the seed, 245. — Experiment by 
Mr. Judge Mitchell, 248. 

Sobriety, excellent effects of it, par. 230. 

Shakespeare, the fashion to extol his writings, par. 270. 

Transplanting Indian corn. — Advantages of it, par. 213. — 
Manner and time of doing it, 215. — Quantity of crop, 
219. — Comparative trouble between this and the common 
method, 221. 

Toomer, game-keeper to Sir John Mildmay, par. 301. 

Virginia, state of elective suffrage in, par. 409. 

Wakeford, Mr. Onslow, par. 398. 



INDEX TO PART III. 



AMtuicA, as an asylum for English emigrants in general, 
par. 860. — For English poor, in particular, 955. 

Broom corn, observations with regard to its uses, par. 1039. 

Birkbeck, Mr., situation and description of his settlement in 
Illinois, and account of his operations there, par. 907. — 
His mode of fencing, 910.— Letters to him, 869, 1014. 

Burdett, Sir F. par. 861. 

Berthoude, Mr., par. 896. 

Bosson, Mr., par. 888. 

Baring, par. 1045. 

Canada, Western States preferred to it, par. 934. 

Chillicothe described, par. 940. 

Charlston on the Ohio, par. 957. 

Charmouth in Dorsetshire, par. 1039. 

Cincinnati described, par. 889. 

Country, appearance of it between Philadelphia and Pittsburg, 
par. 873. — Around Cincinnati, 889.— In Indiana, 925. — 
In Kentucky, 934, 936.— In Ohio, 939, 940, 944. 

Climate at Vevay, par. 893. — At Harmony, 914. 

with regard to health, in Indiana, 927. — In Kentucky, 

929, 932.- At West Union, 939.— At Chillicothe, 940. 
— with regard to weather, on the Ohio, 880. — In Ken- 



tucky, 933, 937, 938.— In Virginia, 954. 

Cartwright, Major, par. 861. 

Clay, Mr. and Mrs,, par. 931. 

Churcher, Mary Ann, par. 1066. 

Drake, Mr., par. 888. 

Dillon, Mr., par. 949. 

Emigration, in letters to Mr. Birkbeck — Question as td 
emigration in principle, par, 973. — Bad reasoning upon 
which England is deserted, 979. — Escape to the Illinois like 
an escape to one's grave, 984. — Writings of Mr. B. tend 
to deceive and decoy, 971, 1027.— Privations real and not 



INDEX. 



6U 



imaginary in new countries, 977. — His plan of settling not 
wise, 981. — Success of the Harmoniles no example, 983. — 
Objections to English farmers as first settlers, 974, 1015. — 
Author's experience with regard to prairies, 986. — At- 
lantic States preferable to the Western, 988.— Mr. B.'s 
ignorance of the former, 989. — Comparison between thera 
in point of expences and profits of farming, 993. — Incor- 
rectness of Mr. Birkbeck's estimates with regard to build- 
ing expences, 997. — Fallacy of his speculations with re- 
gard to crops and farming operations, 1001. — Failing of 
Mr. Ti. with regard to some of his proposed operations, 
and his self-contradictions, 101 8. 

Fuel, sort and price of, at Cincinnati, par. 890. 

Fish, sorts, sizes and prices in the Ohio, par. 885, 938. 

Fencing, Mr. Birkbeck's mode recommended, par. 910. 

Ferry, ingenious one at Marietta, par. 883. 

Farming, state of in general, par. 910. — In Indiana, 925. — 
Mr. Clay's system, 931.— In Ohio, 939, 954. 

Fletcher of Bolton, par. 856, 945. 

Fearon, contradiction of his false statements, par. 1057 to 
1068. 

House-keeping, expences of, in Philadelphia, par. 967. 

Horses, price of, par. 905, 961. 

Harmony in Indiana described, par. 914. — Habits of the 
people, 915. 

Harmonites, history and progress of the sect, par. 919 to 
922. 

Hyde Park, Author's residence, 1068. 

Hulme, Mr., introduction to his journal, par. 853 to 871.— 
Birth and parentage — reasons for leaving England — views 
with regard to settling in America — observations on the 
journal. 

Johnstone, Mr., and his wife and family, par. 899. 

Land-Speculating, effects of it, par. 902, 925. 

Lexington, par. 9.S1 . 

Louisville on the Ohio, its situation, par. 893. 

Manners and habits, &c. of the back-woods' men, par. 902, 
904.— Laziness in towns, 903, 923.— Dirtiness, 927.— 
Water-drinking, 937. — Society in general, 959. 

Manufactures and machinery recommended, par. 903, 924, 
943, 947, 954, 957, 958. 

' State of at Pittsburg, 875.— At Cincinnati, 889. 

—At Harmony, 917.— At Paris, 934.— At Zanesville, 946. 
—At Steubenville, 958. 

Mills, observations on, par. 1029. 



6l6 INDEX. 

Maysville, on the Ohio, par. 937. 

Marietta, on the Ohio, par. 883. 

Mud-holes, in Indiana, par. 925. 

Morris, Colonel, par. 932. 

New Lancaster, brings to mind the cruelties at Old Lan- 
caster, 945. 

Netherton, Mr., par. 929. 

Ohio, river of, described, par. 879, 884.— Falls of, 893. 

Prices of provisions, &c. at Pittsburg, par. 876.— At 
Wheeling, 88L— At Princeton, 924.— At Paris, 935.— 
At Maysville, 938.— At Zanesvillc, 953. At Steubenville, 
95L— Of land, in Indiana, 899. 

Pittsburg described, par. 874. 

Princeton, Indiana, par. 903, 924. 

Prairies in Illinois described, par. 906. 

Roads, in Pennsylvania, par. 872. — In Indiana, 906. — Ob- 
servations with regard to them, 930. — United States road 
in Ohio, 953.— At Wheehng, 955. 

Ruta Baga, Mr. Townsend's experiment with regard to 
soil and culture, 1053. — Produce, 1054. 

Rapp, George, pastor of the Harmonites, par. 915 to 920. 

Soil in Pennsylvania, par. 872.— At Cincinnati, 889. — In 
Indiana, 906, 912, 920.— On the bottom lands, 940.— 
Richness of, in Ohio, 943. 

Steam-boats on the Ohio, par. 900. — Observations with re- 
gard to building, 956. 

Sermon of a Quaker lady, par. 928. 

Speying of sows, not done, but wanted in America, par. 
1039. 

Steubenville on the Ohio, par. 880. 

Shippingport, ditto, par. 895. 

Travelling, by stage, par. 872, 964. — Floating on the Ohio, 
877, 880, 882, 891, 897.— By Steam-boat, 900.— On 
horseback, 906, 912, 930. 

— — — Accommodations in Pennsylvania, 87S. — In In- 
diana, 925, 997, 999. -In Keniucky, 930. — In Ohio, 939, 
944. 

Expences, in floating, 882, 890.— By steam- 



boat, 900.— Of Mr. Hulme during his tour, 966. 
Taylor, Dr., par. 857. 
Townsend, Mr., par. 1052. 
Vevay, vineyards at, par. 892. 
United States, policy of increasing the empire of, par. 

1027. 



INDEX. 617 

Wild fowl and animals — Turkey buzzards and pigeons, par. 

900. — Turkeys and pigs, 902. — Pigeons, 926. 
Wheeling, on the Ohio, par. 881, 955. 
Worthington, Governor, par. 942. 
Whittemore, Mr., par. 933. 
Wilson, Mr., par 958, 
Zanesville described, 946. 



J. M'Creery, Printer, 
Clack Horse Court, Loadoii. 



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